Living Life Backwards

Think of life as a car journey.

In some places the motorway is wide and substantial;

in other places it is damaged and in need of repair.

You know your destination – it’s hard-wired into

   your soul.

Occasionally you look in the rear-view mirror

to see the nature of the road left behind.

Be careful, though; I’ve been told that mirrors

can be dangerous - they detract from the road ahead.

Like tiredness, and snacks, and messing with your phone.

You can stop, of course, to rest and take stock.

Breaking your journey is a healthy thing to do.

Talking to others, helping with repairs, listening to those

whose journeys haven’t gone to plan –

all of these things bring comfort.

And you need comfort. It can be a long journey.

But let me whisper something: in the fields –

the lush fields and the barren fields that skirt the barriers

and inside lanes - strange things happen.

Good strange things, and bad strange things; rational

and irrational things; pure and impure things.

Encounters in these fields might seem questionable –

the very nature of existence disputed, conversations

laced with confusion and obfuscation.

Justice – like pick-up trucks – may seem slow

   to arrive.

But justice will arrive, I guarantee -

in the same way that everything arrives in its

   rightful place.

And when friends, relatives, and loved ones

   drive by

wave, pull over, embrace. Use your time wisely.

(Those angry strangers who shout – turn the other cheek.

They’re not worth your while.)

Concentrate on the moment; enjoy the ride.

Your destination is now closer than you think.  

Everything will be forgotten.