Every now and then I surf the wave of something momentous, or at least it feels that way. Something akin to a pressure builds, and I feel on the cusp of something new, as if a threshold or important moment approaches. And sometimes they do, wrecking whatever plans I may have had, upending any sense of my future with the brutal reality of the world's destiny intersecting with mine... and winning.
And at other times they do not... the pressure builds, the angst, the disquiet of its approach and then... nothing. It dissipates, ebbing and flowing away without seeming interference.
I don't know if those moments have come, and their importance and magnitude have been extant, yet not obvious. I do not know it my future has changed on a singular decision or thought or action that wasn't blindingly obvious, or a multitude driven like a chain by each link before. From tiny acorns...
I do not know if that which is momentous is merely my mind lending weight to the merely mundane, whether the decisions that set my path are not the ones I think they are, but are those that come before or after. Sometimes they are not mine to make, they are not my own. Or they are simply waves, symptoms of something else, perhaps a yearning for change, or for stability, or simple restlessness born of a ticking clock. Perhaps they are nothing, tricks of the imagination to vent some untapped fever or wistful dream.
So I ride the wave, feel the pressure building and the cusp approaching, wondering if it is something, or nothing, or if it has already been and gone.