Disembarked

The map in my hand glows with certainty, its arrow unwavering; yet every path I choose threatens to disembark me.

I walk anyway, trusting momentum over intuition.

The wind translates my intentions into a poem, but scatters my signals like static.

Still, something in the distance keeps calling—soft, patient, as if it knew I would arrive bruised but wiser.

When I finally reached the finish line, I realized something important. The journey had stripped away the noise. I once mistook that noise for a mission.

The destination was right all along; it was only the channel that needed changing.


Six Sentence Stories

24 thoughts on “Disembarked

  1. Good Six and good reminder, Reena. “Noise”. Some self-created, the other, tolerated/welcomed even. The noise is the consummate distraction. Without it, think how much we might do, how far along the evolutionary path we’d be.

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  2. When I finally reached the finish line, I realized something important. The journey had stripped away the noise. I once mistook that noise for a mission.”

    very insightful (wise to remember as we flounder on our journey convinced that the ‘Map is the Territory’.)

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      1. “...since people around you who constitute the noise would like retention.

        Even worse! They tend to insist on it’s retention.

        And that can make the process (of change) even more difficult, if not painful

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