I can see the harbor lights as we sail past the outer sound and head on into port. It’s an unfamiliar place, but with a certain feel that I have felt before. I ponder as I wonder, and I remember back to a time in my youth. The walks down the halls, the new faces wrapped in a room full of new sounds. A time to learn how to find time to learn.
This place, this newness, this institution of sturdy moorings has a simple feel, an uncomplicated feel, an important feel. This restful parking spot for the adventurous vessels of the sea unknowingly puts the wandering hearts at ease with a promise, a commitment, a pledge that the rewards will match, and could greatly exceed the efforts.
As I step off the ship, the people I see in the streets all seem to have a purpose in their stride. They know where they are, who they are and what they are supposed to do. This constructed book of wisdom ticks and tocks like a well crafted time piece that gathers all the hours of the past and guides them towards the spinning hands of tomorrow.
As anxious as I used to be, the calm that I feel this day is a welcome commodity that I don’t really know how to handle. It’s a rare treat that with each step, I look forward to the next one even more. My ways of old have somehow prepared me for my time at hand, my days of new, my gift of the present. The stepping stones of older dreams have molded and shaped and nurtured the wide eyed curiosity that becomes as big a part of me now, as it could ever have hoped to be throughout my life.
The hustling, bustling characteristics of the town by the sea have given a new meaning to that word I have written of so many times.
The word is home, and I feel ready to explore all that it has to offer.
The test is at hand. The test is the title of the next chapter. The test is mine for the taking, and I choose the chore that goes along with it.
Across the sea I have come. From a thousand nights before, I have been readying for this one chance. Across the sea I have lived and dreamed and imagined what lies on the opposite shore.
There’s only one way to find out exactly why I find myself in this place, this town, this opportunity, this inspiration of the day.
It’s time to open the book and learn the story. It’s time to test the skills that have been gently nudging me towards my next step for so long. It’s time to live and love the lessons learned.
I hear that wonderfully familiar voice from my childhood, that soothing tone that energized my youth, that motherly inspiration found neatly tucked away inside the fabric of yesterday, as it echoes up from the bottom of the stairs and wraps itself around my morning.
“Wake up Deon. It’s time to get ready for school.”