People of the Way

People of the Way

The Way is what we choose. You have chosen to read. I have chosen to write. And so this is the Way.

As I descend the last stair and look through the glass door of my office building, it strikes me that the world begins and ends with this day. I walk across the grass in front of the car dealership, the same route I take everyday on my way home from work. As I make my way through the grass, wet as it is everyday from the timed sprinkler system, I allow myself to sense every blade of grass that pokes through the side of my sandals as each one embraces my exposed flesh.

There is something very different about today, this day. I stop to consider the grass for a moment, wet, yet parched and dried from the summer sun. Yes, something is different. I remember my bus, leaving in only five minutes and pick up my pace. I am on the way somewhere, is it home? Is there any consequence in where I am heading if the world begins and ends today?

The Earth, the universe, each blade of grass, all created today. And this day, before I have a chance to explore any of these things fully perhaps before I even get on the bus, they will all be destroyed. I stop in the grass again, allowing the wet, but parched grass to poke through the sides of my sandals. Why rush in a world that is temporary?

The bus passes the end of the block and I realize that the world begins and ends on the Way. And so I am of the Way.