I have always been fascinated with the way that words morph themselves from single entities into new beings. Look at them and selves. Or look at how “everybody” goes from two words that separately would mean something different, standing side by side, to describe every member of a group. I don’t know if I am alone in the way that, after years of use, I get sudden epiphanies about the words that I use everyday. It is almost like in those moments, the words reintroduce themselves to me, not as straight embodied meanings of the whole words, but as their base words in the first principles. One of these words, is Milestone. If I didn’t already know that in the past, they would have mile markers — and these markers were stones, I would be confused at what relationship the two words could possibly have together.
The word comes to mind for me because, it is in feeling the importance of this moment, in the thread of my life that I am hefting the words in my mind. I’m not sure why I feel this sense of importance. It feels to me, like the way you feel when youstare at a significant painting that you are only vaguely familiar with. You know it is important, but you can’t seem to place it. It is in this way that I know that I should write about this place. Is it a place as much as it’s a dispensation in time? I feel that I should write about this time. Maybe because at some point in the future, I am going to want to know where it all began. For good or for ill. And so here we are.
With that said, I also know that I am human and for all my self tutelage in learning to surrender, I still get scared. But there’s a fear that freezes us, and there’s yet another that frees. There’s also fear, that takes a weight off your shoulder and gives you coffee jitters.
This is that type.
It’s taken decades to get here, and yet it all feels like I have only just aligned my bare feet in the starting blocks and the gun is only just about to go off.