|Arches National Park, Utah|
I start out on a fairly clearly marked path, with some concrete ideas. I think I know where I'm going.
But then the path gets more obscure. The walls close in: the walls of doubt, of tangles in the story, of unforeseen problems.
At first, when the walls close in, I'm a little scared. Or frustrated. And then I remind myself this always happens.
I trust the path is going somewhere. I keep walking.
There is beauty here, and mystery. In fact, it might not be nearly as rewarding if I could see the whole path from the start. Yes, I've looked at the map. I have some idea of where I'm going. But there are always surprises along the way.
In part, I write to discover.