Legacy of Letters

January 1, 1986
Orlando, Florida
Dear Diary,
          I often feel as if I am on a journey with no destination, simply stumbling along an endless, winding road, zigzagging among the forks. It’s terribly scary, always wondering which path to take, which will be the right one this time. 
         In August I’ll turn 54 although I look in the mirror and still see the soul of a fresh-faced young Pat on the brink of life’s adventure. What happened to all the time? I’m hoping this year I’ll find new direction and the fulfillment of some of my dreams. Life is such a mystery … do others have this same deep longing to understand the unfolding of their lives? 
         What I can figure out so far is that this gift of life seems to carry with it an implied agreement to be involved in a series of learning experiences. A process of soaring through the ups and surviving the downs. Of searching for ways to gain more love, to give purer love, and to feel an ever-deepening connection to our world. I find there are times when joy reigns supreme. It could happen on any day, feeling a joie de vivre for no particular reason. Or in the midst of happy celebrations. Or in moments alone with cherished memories. 
         And there are those piercingly painful periods fraught perhaps with illness, grief, loss, or regret over things done or not done, or even apathy.
         It seems, too, that during the course of the unfolding there are sometimes long stretches of placidly coasting along in the flow of life’s daily routines, with events occurring just as expected or planned. 
         I’ve recognized that in some way or another, whether smoothly sailing along or mired in moments of fear and confusion, I’m usually still aware of and touched by the beauty all around. My senses are stirred to new aliveness by myriad sights and sounds … blue skies on a balmy day, when the sunshine sparkles on water like a scattering of diamonds. A little sliver of crescent moon moored in a midnight sky. Rolling ocean waves, quiet ripples on a lake. Stately old tree giants or tiny new rosebuds. Healthy children with laughing eyes. The fleeting glimpse of a brilliant red cardinal, a bevy of butterflies landing gracefully in a bed of flowers. The sweet-love smiles of an old couple as their eyes meet and their age-worn hands gently touch. Lively foot-tapping music or a slow, haunting guitar solo. The cooing of a dove, or of a baby. …
          There are other blessings as I travel on through the twists and turns of the path. I meet folks with wisdom and warmth who guide me in my search for the rainbow’s mysterious end, and I delight in their generous spirit. They sun my soul. 
         Sometimes I connect with fellow seekers embarking on their own journeys, and when I stop to listen and share, a mutual caring is born that helps each of us along the path. Then too, I encounter individuals reluctant to leave the safety and security of the familiar and take that risk into the unknown to examine the deepest self. To those I strive always to impart kindness and understanding, but soon find I am eager to continue on my way.
         I have so many places to go, more to explore, and much to learn. I dare not linger.