Clouds, the veil, the thin figuring of covered eyes. Clarity was key for a long time — I had gotten my thoughts straight, had blasted my dreams into the night sky with the stars. The moon hung in a beautiful slice, illuminated by the brightness of the sun that transitioned just over a bit to leave the dark blues fading towards black.

I went on about my business, tuning my body into the circadian rhythms of my life. The rituals of what made me feel good became the focus points, done without thought, though the intention of how they were supposed to make me feel was left whirling in my head. The routine became routine. The goodness became the easiest form of expression, done just because it’s what I’ve been doing. 

Questions arose through these moments, triangulating and navigating through the guiding lights I had placed in the heavens above me and the feet I put underneath me, step by step forward. The beauty of what I had built became just a part of the regular flow, with highs not as highs and lows not as low. The self-critical reverberation was always set to high and the frustration grew in moments that I plunged beneath the waters.

One day I chose to let go. To let the radical uncertainty take over and to let new paths track through my life. To allow more people to walk along side me, even at times guide me, into unknown forests. And then these people went away. And I stopped walking forward, uncertain if I should go back to where I was or if I should continue on. I sure couldn’t have stayed stuck in this one place here and now, waiting for someone to come back. No one was or is going to rescue me.

To be clear, I don’t need rescuing.

The clarity I had left me wanting for adventure, and I took that chance. I engaged in a dance that had me twirling through spaces unknown, drinking in the light of the sun and the intoxicating moon. I played in waterfalls and as I whirled like a dervish in the evening’s breezes, watched as my guiding stars spun with me. 

I woke up alone. I woke up in the grasses, the birds chirping like every other morning, but no sun. No lightness. Scratching my head, wondering about the previous night’s fancies and fantasies that unfolded in more breadth. As I searched around for remnants of yesterday, the fog creeped in. The smoke that veils my eyes and keeps me from seeing clearly the direction in which I came. The direction in which I’m supposed to go. I call out into the dawn, waiting for a response. All I felt was the moisture, the heaviness along my skin, settling along my throat and clouding my vision.

I propped myself up from the ground, watching as bits of earth fall from my hair. Coughing dryly, trying to remember what kind of midnight dances we did, the fog moved from the outside in as I stumbled again to find my feet, the path I chose taking me through the forests, gnarled trees that look the same in both directions.

So I stumble now through these forests, curious if the direction I”m going is the same one I had set my eyes on in the first place. The lack of visibility provides no sense of security, keeps me from knowing what was prior to the swirling midnight provocations. The darkness overtakes me, the smoke I inhale, the pressing forward. Moisture from the clouds lays on my skin, I feel the coolness as it settles onto all things, the thickness moving me slower. I take a look around, hoping to find more signs. Curiously I wonder if I should turn around, as if going in the other direction would turn back time. Then, maybe the, the fog wouldn’t overtake me. Maybe then I would be able to see the stars again and connect me with my dreams.

There is no turning back now. Instead, the smoke screen becomes the new veil which to look through. The veil I wear in the dance. I begin to listen to the places within me rather than the fears, the over analytical brain working to protect me from life itself. I make a choice to play in the quality of each experience, pushing off from every time as I move through the cloud forest. Leaving it all behind for the next thing to come. I am making space, I am creating more room to breathe and grow even as the fog gets thicker. The smoke will not stop my from finding ways to move, the only dance there is.