Blue Sky Falling

I'm free falling. Breathless. Terrified. I'm skydiving over San Francisco Bay.  The Golden Gate Bridge pops through the fog at regular intervals. It's peaceful, serene, magnificent. The clouds look soft, safe. I'm too high to pull the rip cord. It's my first time skydiving and it's exhilarating. I wonder, Why am I sky diving over water? I pull the chute. It's a bit small. It looks more like a napkin than a parachute which seems odd but intriguing. My fear dissipates. 

It's zero dark thirty. My alarm steals me away. I smile. I want to go back to sleep, back to my dream. Skydiving seems like a good bucket list item. I stretch, crawl out of bed with sleepy eyes, and move forward with my day. 

Later it occurs to me that this dream is a manifestation of my current reality.  I'm free falling, a bit lost, trying to find my way, hoping to find some peace and serenity in the process. The veil of distraction has been whittled down to less than 20 pounds. There is nowhere left to run, nothing more to do, nowhere else to hide. It's just me left staring me in the face. 

I've tried not to place expectations on my Camino. In fact, I've purposely avoided looking at pictures or doing much research beyond the weather. I have little idea of what it will be like once I arrive. Purposefully planned ignorance. Buying plane tickets and packing gear is enough planning. I've got 40 days to make it from Paris to Santiago de Compostela, that’s all I need to know. Everything that happens in between will happen just as it's meant to. I will get exactly what I need, I will meet who I need to meet. It will be perfect just as it is.