Joining the dots
Early morning stirrings outside of Asheville and another wet festival weekend is about to commence. At my last wet festival weekend I met E, so I have no call for it to dampen my spirits. My clothes, yes; our tent, yes; but not my spirits. We’re going to the Lake Eden Arts Festival, a quaint little folky festival around a lake in this North Carolina cultural hub.
I love this country for its fullness. There is something for everyone here – culturally, socially, politically, geographically – there is a home in this nation somewhere for almost anyone. And in this moment it feels as though I have found mine: beautiful family in the hills in a place called Floyd. Floyd! If this didn’t make my friends laugh when they first heard it, they missed an opportunity; Pink Floyd being so central to my life for so long ‘n’ all.
Oh, the twists a life endures. I notice so often that a conversation, a chance incident, serves as preparation for the real thing a little later. It’s like it’s all already happened, and then in this life it all gets pieced together in a pattern that is nowhere near as chaotic as it appears. And it seems to me that if eternity – all time – exists, then there is no other choice than for everything to have already happened: it all exists within eternity somewhere. What looks like life is merely joining the dots.