If you are anything like me, you have come across crossroads in
your lives on several occasions. Unexpected more often than not, there tend to
be more than two possibilities as so often portrayed in our media.
It is not simply left or right. There is not always a path less
travelled by. There is not always major discernible consequences of one route
They manifest in pairs, triplets, even dozens. Often one sticks
out as the easiest and another as the hardest. One might be what is supposed to be chose but another is
simply right. There are subtle
impacts of each option that are entirely unpredictable as they lurk just below
the surface, just out of sight. They must be accounted for even if there is no
way of knowing what they might be.
It seems like a contradiction because it is. Life is not black
and white, it isn’t even gray. It is colorful and alive, the yellows of the sun
and happiness mixing with the brilliant red as it forced to set and the anger
coursing through people that sometimes makes them feel more alive than anything
else. It’s comparable to the relief of seeing the blue sky after a long winter despite
being tinged with sorrow at seeing it go; blue being so closely associated with
sadness at times it feels impossible to tell them apart.
Three days ago, I sat in front of a near finished issue of The Quibbler, my own crossroads laid out
in front of me. While unforeseen, they were far more clearly than I could have
One option was right. It shined through as more difficult, both
in stress and work, but it would have been impossible to choose another route.
While very little changed in terms of the issue, I can sense those
repercussions lurking just around the corner, and I welcome them gladly,
whatever they may be.
That’s the thing about ripples. They keep on growing, the same
as a splash.