OldTroubador's blog post - To Be or Not To Be

I sometimes feel like I am running. I'm not sure if I am running to or running away. Almost like Forrest Gump, when he ran back and forth across the country. He had no idea why, he just ran, until it was time to stop running. My answers are out there, I know they are - somewhere between the ditches, somewhere between the sunrise and sunset. I'm not even sure of the questions, maybe that's what I'm looking for. Or maybe it all doesn't matter and the journey is my raison d'etre.
I have stood in the valley and looked up the hillside; I have driven the ridgeline and gazed into the valley. I have scanned rivers and streams, asked the lady in the lake, watched as countless waves lapped against the Texas coastline. My eyes have searched the Great Plains; my thoughts have questioned the great mountains of the west. I have found no questions, no answers in any of these places. But I have learned of the poetry of Nature.
I have listened to the wind sighing through the pines; heard the gentle murmur of water tumbling over the rocks. The birds of the woods and grasses have spoken to me, but only to say hello, or good-bye. My questions have gone unanswered, but I have learned the music of the land.
I have felt the icy blast of winter as it crawls down my neck. I have been touched by the soft night air, a gentle caress upon my cheek. I have experienced the tranquility of the quiet places. I have been burned by thoughtlessness, or hate, touched to the very depths of my soul by kindness. Yet none of these has yielded that which I seek.
Death’s cold, clammy hand has patted me on the back, as he whispered, “Not today boy, not today.” And God’s protective hand has taken the wheel, when needed, to steer me to calmer waters. And yet, neither has told me why.
Some of these journeys, I have taken with each of you with me, for I wanted you to see what I see, hear what I hear, feel the things I feel. At other times, I have shared these sojourns with only one or two, for the moments were too preciously personal to share en masse. And at even other times, such as lately, my travels have been solitary, for there are places I need visit that cannot be shared with others.
As many here can attest, the hardest thing a person can do is to say good-bye to one’s child. And it is for me. Yet, wise beyond her years, my daughter seems to understand my wanderlust and eagerly awaits the tales I bring. Then, when my time to rest is done, she sends me on my way, with a hug, a kiss, and a smile and the promise that she will be waiting for me when I tire.
I am headed back home now, finally. It will be time to rest, to replenish my supplies – of goods, of strength. Then, after all is done, I will again continue my quest. I will be running again, either to or away. And searching for my raison d’etre on my journey. Or fulfilling it.