losing sight of shore

my best friend calls, as if on cue. i needed her. she knew it. hence the call.

taking a chance,

are you working?

she asks
(i often answer my phone at work, my bad)

no, i'm finally home.

what's wrong?

she knows my voice. but i couldn't talk about it, so we circled the runway catching up on the details of her life, before i could get her advice.

she is one of my trusted advisors.

remember,

she said,

you will never discover new continents unless you lose sight of the shore.

you don't feel like you're making progress because you're in the middle of the journey,

she said,

but you're making great strides.

and she reminded me how.

think about it, plan for it, be prepared

she says.

and if it doesn't happen, at least you were ready to move forward if it did.

she, the architect of this part of my journey, no i don't come up with this shit alone. there is a design. an undergirding plan of action. i am headed in a direction, though the winds have started howling and the compass fell overboard. and i'm not sure how it will work out. but i know what to do this moment. i can lean into friday and move forward.

perhaps discoveries happen when we least expect them.