That place you want to be. What your arduous efforts and laborious hours are to culminate at. The very thing that you are exerting all energy at attaining.
Or maybe it is the place that you dream of being. The one you think of as you’re sitting on your couch at 7:30pm, watching The Office and snacking on Frito Lays. It’s that place somewhere in the depth of your soul, you know you were made to be; the place that you were designed to get to. But life got in the way. Now it’s just a dream. Something you’ll tell your grandchildren one day, as you sit on the front porch of your modest middle class house with your Folgers cup of coffee, looking back on the life you’ve led and pondering what life could have been.
Regardless, this place exists somewhere in a future time and space; with no clear ETA.
Recently, I had someone say that they could “help me get there.” It got me thinking about this finite place “there.” Where was it I wanted to be? Where was it I was trying to “get to?”
In all my years I have had lofty dreams, ideal dreams; I’ve embraced reality and endured circumstances out of my control. Sometimes I thought “there” was the actualization of one of those many dreams. Other times I thought it was acceptance of a life I could only marginally alter. In the end, I learned that “there” is any place I chose. What I do here, in this moment, at this minute, has radical implications on where there is. I just had to decide what I wanted “there” to look like.
I’m not there yet.