My mind is always in two places simultaneously. First it is like someone crawling in an unlit tunnel. I reach out in front of me. What is there? What is the shape of possibility? What sharp edge of struggle will I tear my palms upon? What opening unseen will explain itself to my touch?

Secondly, there is what I call the predictor mind. I will achieve only the kind of love that I have previously experienced. I keep my focus on what I have left behind me in time to allow what is now or what is revealing itself.

The narrative of bygones restrains the possible map of my life. Only those small rivers I have previously sailed upon will be found in my future exploration. The past is the predictor. Only those horizons I have crossed into will appear on my journey. What was becomes what is and more firmly what I can expect of later.

What is expectation? Expectation is a reaching out, a feeling around, a replaying of the old story.

The mind works diligently to keep us safe. If your ship crashed upon a shore in a narrow river and you were abandoned to the lost land, you will steer away from the delta that expresses a topography reminding you of your last disaster place.

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The mind works incessantly to prevent the very thing that cannot be prevented. The assaults of happenstance have already happened. The scars of old wounds are already etched upon the skin.

The mind remembers the sense of the punishing helplessness of abuse, disaster, ill conceived choices. It remembers all of it.

And so when I get up in the morning, I look at the sky. I ask the sky to show me what day this will be. The questioning dialogue is about my safety. What promises do you bring to me oh vault of heavenly blue?

I open the door expecting the clarity of clear sky to engulf me in warmth. But the wind attacks as soon as I turn around the protective corner of the house.

The act of dismissing a story about the sky and the wind and my place in all of it clears space. Dismissing the protective thoughts that arise like a body guard sharply speaking to me to ,”Be careful. Be very, very careful,” creates a place for promises.

Like a child, we can choose to move out the door into a new story. What if everything was just exploration? What if I am ultimately unaffected by the past? I can ask: “What skies are these?” And in true wonder, simply go find out.