Veiled Horizons

[From 2 Aug]

Overlooking Lake Michigan - Aug 2009

Lake Michigan seemed endless as I sat along the shore at Carthage. The still waters merged with rising mists and the grey clouds of a midsummer morning. There was no line on the horizon- no blot, no jot, no tittle. Nothing but a vast expanse of cool and calm.

The last time I surveyed a scene like this, metaphorically at least, was in the January of 2001 on the ice covered campus of Hamline. Nearing the end of my undergraduate career, my eyes were scanning furiously for what might come next - a job or task or purpose that would capture my imagination and lead me along. Then, as now, I was preparing to depart for an extended stay in Southeast Asia.

I'm a long-term visioner . . one who revels in surveying the scene, piecing the puzzle together, and imagining what might be ten, twelve, or even eighteen months down the line. Now, however, my ability to vision is limited - obscured by an opaque veil covering the horizon.

While I might have some inkling and daydreams about paths that could lie beyond KL, I'll be leaving for Malaysia as I did for Bali. Four years of school are now behind me and I carry with me a brand new passport - ready to be marked and stamped by destinations as yet unseen.