Two stages done. Time for listening to others has passed. Stage 1 Your mom said, “Do this.” Your dad said “Do that.” So you did them. Take a bath. Brush your teeth. Wear this. Wear that. Aim straight. Flush. Make your bed. Fold your clothes. Don’t play with fire. They told you this. They told you that. Mastered these skills you did. You said, “What’s next?”
Stage 2 Added bigger challenge. Write this down. Draw this here. Color between the lines. Run this way. Run that way. Read this chapter. Study. Take this test. Done here. Now go there. Write this down. Draw this. Run this way. Run that way. Read this chapter. Study. Take this test.
Master these skills you did. Tried more things. You learned you weren’t alone. Friends you made. Like Mom and Dad and Teacher X, Your friends said wear this. Wear that. They dared you. Jump this way. Hit that way. Run here. Run there. They dared you. They dared you to talk to her. They dared you to hold her hand. They dared you to kiss. You dared. You did them. You said, “What’s next?”
Another voice you heard inside. Quiet, but growing. Getting your bearings. Before you knew it, you had to leave again. Go to school here. Take this class and that. Write this down. Read this chapter. Study. Take this test. You tried it again, but this it didn’t keep.
No worries. No shame. It’s where you met. It was time for that. That voice inside grew. Still a change was needed and so you left. Answered the call you did. It wasn’t your mom. Wasn’t your dad. It was drill sergeant now telling you take a bath, brush your teeth, wear this, wear that, aim straight, flush, make your bed, fold your clothes. Fire. Its fun. Told you this. Told you that. Mastered these skills you did. Your tour was over. You said, “What’s next?”
Returned home you did. Tried school again, but didn’t take. Again. Another reason for this visit. Wasn’t school. It was her. Listened to that growing voice you did. You asked, “What’s Next?” She said “Yes.” You were asked. You said, “I do.”
Left you did. Your country called. You answered. Three years past on this tour and on the summit you sit. No one to guide. No one to drive you. Voices around are silent. This scares you. No Mom. No Dad. No Drill Sergeant. No Wife Around. No one to tell you what to do. You ask, “What’s next?”
No one to tell you this. No one to tell you that. Instructions you got. Lessons you learned. Companions and Compadres await. Silence on the summit you sit. No guide, no driver. “It’s cold. It’s quiet,” you say. Quietness is unfamiliar. Its really your friend. It all quiet now. Alone atop wanting guidance, wanting to be driven. Like this, you don’t.
Quiet--First two stages of your life are done. Commitment kept. The guides you chose have done their best. Friends and family await. The next four stages are yours to set. The time for people telling you what to do is over. Advice they will give, but you must decide. Nothing happens without your okay. No one to blame. No one to pat you on the back. No one is driving. No one is moving. It’s quiet. It's you’re turn.
You’ve been guided. You’ve been told. Driver’s seat is open and someone needs to fill. We all look to you. Its quiet atop of the cold mountain summit. We’re waiting for you. Next four are your own. Fly fast they will. Look at your parents. Look at your friends. Hair is grayer. Waistline are wider. Their journeys may soon end.
Children spring up like weeds. Flowers they are. On a journey like you. Their journey already began. Life, your life, is ahead of you and you need to drive. If you choose, guidance you will give. If you choose, you will tell others, “Do this, do that.”
Next four stages are your own. How you drive? Who you bring? What stops you will make? What side trips now? Stops, flats, detours you will take. Accidents may happen. Road kills may occur. Tune ups, oil changes, gassing up. Stranded you may become. May need a new car. May need a new ride. May need new passengers. May need to double back because something was wrong.
Before too long, you will find yourself on another cold, mountain summit. Friends may be there. Family may be there, too. Your turn to drive will end and the life you live belong to the next two stages of life. You will ask again, “What’s next?”
You will discover that growing voice inside is/was all around. You will discover you were never alone. You will discover you were always guided. Those bumps in the roads, the flats, and detours. Accidents and road kills had purpose. You were passenger and driver during these times all along. You will discover those starts and stops were your instructions to do this and do that. Course corrections and stops were your mom, your dad, your teachers, your sergeants, your wife, your family, your friends. These were your guides and that you were never alone.
Its quiet on the summit of the mountain because the Universe waiting for your answer. She’s asked, “What’s next?”
You are missed. See you in June.
