Surprise surprise surprise

Sometimes I feel like life is a semi-truck that has just lain me flat. While I am laid out on the pavement I struggle with even attempting to get back up, or whether I should stay put. If I stay put, there is a good chance that the next semi will roll right over me without so much as a bump or a bruise. I can avoid the pain that will come with the next rumble of tragedy, as those wheels come barreling at me. I can cower and wait. I can cry and pity myself and those that are affected by life's latest surprise. That is what I could do. It sounds easier. Peaceful almost. That warm pavement pressed against my face sometimes feels safe, familiar. I'm so used to being back there, smelling the tar of failure or regret. Feeling the gravel dig into my skin like so many unanswered questions. But I get back up. I cringe as I pull myself to stand, bracing for impact. I forgot how nice the cool breeze feels upon my face, so different from the hot black top. I breathe, and as the crisp air fills my lungs, I am renewed with as much hope as oxygen. I brush off the gravel, and stifle the "what if's." I turn away from the traffic and walk. Life is so much more the combination of these hikes and traumas. And as I listen to the noises of the birds and look into the vivid blue sky, I remember how much better it is to keep walking. Pressed flat against the ground, I miss the wind.