Hands

The difficulty inherent in choice is that the clarity with which the situation is seen has yet to be obtained. Only in the future does the present become the past, and a moment is reached when things are seen with a formerly elusive sense of clairvoyance.

While the past is concrete, definite, a boulder from which we cannot escape, the future is amorphous, malleable, a handful of pebbles we can easily toss in any direction. Past and future, it seems, are beautifully dissimilar and diametrically opposed. But what of the present?

Through the present we pass blindfolded, often times bumping and stumbling all the wrong way. We do our best to feel our way around situations, cupping and holding, sometimes crushing the people we love most. It is not until future becomes past, with the blindfold cut free, that we are granted to see our actions with purity.

My heart right now is ambivalently splintered. Part of me wants to abandon a certain situation and hope it’s for the best. The other fears what might be lost by such an abrupt action. The blindfold of the present excludes the notion of a clear choice.

My hands are trying to feel their way around the situation. My hands are unable to extricate the knot that fastens the blindfold. My hands, shaped by the past are left locked in a gesture of prayer for the future.