The Causeway
I looked down the causeway. Its handrails, struck by the glare of an arclight far off to the right, seemed to glow as they receded into the distance. The end of the causeway was drowned in mist, and the rails ran to meet it, ushering me towards the unseen.
Just an hour before I’d been speaking with my friends about entrepreneurship and lifestyle design. I’d made a commitment to quit my corporate job on January 22nd, 2010, but it had never quite seemed real. January seemed such an age away. My preparations had been lagging for some time before the call. And then, as I spoke about the business with my friends, it took on a new significance in my eyes. Not just because they seemed so enthusiastic – but because I realized how enthusiastic I was – and how much my true self really wants to make a go of it.
Then it struck me. There, on that causeway.
What if this causeway is my life? It seems to stretch forever in front of me, but I know the end is there – drowned in mist. If each of these uprights is a year, then there are only so many years to go before the end. And with each upright I just walk past – each year I live out without working towards my goals – is gone. And I’m closer to that unknown end.
Suddenly, I began to think of my future life if I kept on walking in the manner and direction I have taken hitherto. I saw the blank expanse of years – dragging myself to a boring job, acquiring stuff, growing aged and flabby, and the slow descent into death. The expanse of grey, blank, hopeless uselessness.
I turned my head and saw other directions. The directions I had talked about so happily and so assuredly an hour before. I saw struggle in those directions, yes, and hardship, heartache, and long nights. And I saw joy and laughter and accomplishment and bright colors and a life’s work of beauty.
I reached the end of the causeway. Before stepping off into the misty valley, I looked behind me. “Look back from your deathbed,” I thought. “Which life would you rather have lived? What people will each of these lives bring with it? Who would you rather share it with?”
The choice, then, was easy.
This is my commitment: that I won’t forget what I thought of on the causeway. That I will find my Right People and go boldly (and whimperingly, and gaily, and resolutely, and reluctantly – but I will go) in the direction of my dreams. That I will help others do the same. And that I’ll have a great time doing it.
