In between
Never ending transition
The finish line is deceiving, an ever-moving mirage
Two steps forward, only one step closer
From a distance the ladder is only one obstacle, up close a series of rungs
Each rung requires several actions: look, reach, grab, pull, repeat
The mountain is the smallest from afar, most daunting from the base, and unknowable from halfway up.
Memories of past comforts and promises of future ones fuel motivation, but run dry frequently
Former wounds produce both drive and drag
Romanticized ideals both inspire and discourage
The measure of success so specific yet vague, making it unrecognizable
Knowing what is desired but not knowing what it looks like
Seeking resolution yet fearing stability and boredom
How can such an elusive goal be met?
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