Kairos

When the tide of updated reports, strict deadlines, and unending reponsibilities ebbs out by some cosmic miracle, I take the time to walk along the shore and watch the stark silhouete of the coastline rouse itself from the depths of ambivalence. I study the eroded crags, pummeled rock faces, and beaten cliffs with unblinking attention.  What life have I wrought by staying here?

"Am I exactly where I want to be?" I have asked myself, on those most private of occasions. I went ahead and brought out my mental checklist:

"If my life was to end tomorrow, would I say I did it right?"

"Have I lived free of regret?"

"If I found a way to meet myself when I was 12, would the younger me be impressed?"

"Have I claimed all the happiness available to me at the time?"

Most days I would say yes. Even before the questions were asked, before the very thought of inquiry provoked, I would be accosted by some unintended, entirely casual experience.  It would be wholly mundane, something quiet and pretty and personal, like admiring the sunrise through clear skies, or arriving at the office after an uneventful afternoon commute, or hearing the clink of cold beer among friends and family at twilight.

My heart would somehow become overwhelmed with a feeling of appropriateness, a lot like serendipity, but less dramatic, like finding the missing pair of a sock. I believe that somewhere within me lies this intimate wisdom, an instinct of alignment, that would shout from within me a great "Eureka", echoing out from every corner of my soul.

Though life be a puzzle, it seemed that just for that day, I was the piece that fit.

The scenery of my life is a constantly changing landscape, but it always seemed to me quite naturally beautiful. I walk further along the beach in solemn introspection and gratitude.