I took this video on a recent morning commute.  The ‘back way’ is ignominiously called Hogback.  A few homes look like the set of Coal Miners Daughter, replete with black and neon crocheted curtains.  Others are bastions of middle class living.

It’s a circuitous route, winding through woods and dumping out in short order onto the cracked pavement of our dying city.  That morning it was foggy.  Not the whispy, smokey setting from Casablanca, rather the heavy, humidity laden curtain weighing heavily in the air.

I recorded the short journey.  It was a physical manifestation of my life.

For so long it was clear cancer and caretaking were my focus.  Treating it and beating it whilst maintaining a family and work consumed my every moment.  That’s over and buried.

On the foggy path to work that morning, I couldn’t see the next bend in the road until I was right on top of it.  Unless I was moving forward, I would have remained engulfed by the heavy curtain.

Unless I keep driving forward, I’ll never get to the next bend in the road of my life.  I probably won’t see the next bend until I arrive upon it.  I must eat less, pray more and love abundantly to see what’s next.

How will you keep driving through the fog?