Corridors

I walked down a really long corridor today, leaving a very important appointment. The corridor was a long bridge and walkway of glass, and I could see out both sides into the streets. When I got to the halfway point, I turned and looked back. I thought about where I'd been and cherished and blessed the moment I'd just had. I then turned and looked through the glass towards the streets. I watched as people came and went, and I thought about all of the precious moments that had come and gone in my lifetime. After a deep breath, I looked ahead. The path down the corridor looked long. I began to walk, and as I did so, I allowed a meditative state to overcome me. The path spoke to me. It whispered spiritual secrets into my ear. The more steps I took, the more understanding I gained. When I reached the end of the corridor, it felt as if I'd been walking for years--and in some spiritual sense, I KNEW that I had been. I didn't dare look back. That moment had passed, and so had the walk. Now here I sit--typing. Understanding more than I did before. Knowing that I dare not be the same as before. Knowing...