On Golden Line

Straight lines always seem so confident.

A decision is made,

a point selected,

then off we go in our chosen direction,

hardly realizing our line is little more than a gamble

on an outcome we imagined.

But what makes us certain the line knows best?

When the line stops, as it eventually must,

Will we measure our worth by the distance we traveled?

Will we find ourselves where we imagined,

or merely where we wound up?

The straight line seems so inviting,

so determined and goal-oriented.

But a straight line encounters fewer points

than a path that bobs, weaves, and wanders,

reaching places its trajectory never would.

And who knows,

maybe the whole point is to have the courage

to stop our forward momentum

and choose a recursive motion instead,

revisiting and lingering at meaningful points along the way.

And if by chance, I have the good fortune of connecting with a golden point along the way,

one that transforms my journey, making me question the direction my line is taking,

may I have the courage to abandon the straight line

for an infinity loop of figure eights

tracing and retracing what I cannot bear to leave behind

until time slows my line’s momentum to a halt.

Yes, I may not have traveled as far as my friends on the straight path.

But sometimes it’s not how far you travel.

It’s the connections you make along the way

and the joy of being transformed by a golden point.

And maybe, when the line finally comes to rest,

that will have been enough.