I keep wavering. Quivering, as if a querulous child has taken up residence within. It doesn’t seem to matter how much assurance I am given, it only takes the blink of an eye, and I’m right back where I was, facing a grey corridor with no end in sight that I’m terrified to step into.
My trembling hand waves fractiously as I cry into the void my inadequacies and limitations.
‘I can’t! I don’t want to! I’m not ready!’
A pout appears on my face and I plump down on the ground, preparing for a full on sulk.
If I’d just turn around, I’d see Wisdom laughing gently, waiting for me to notice that she’s ready to come along too, to walk by my side and point out that I can’t see the end because there’s simply a curve around the corner.
On my back the sun warms a glow in my hair, unwantedly distracting from my indulgent grumpiness. But although I am still stubbornly on the floor, I can’t help but notice that the grey is changing colour. As the evening beams of light dip lower, they catch, and transform the muted tone to a shimmer of blues and greens. Glinting turquoise, I think with surprise.
So at last I get up, curious, and nod that I’m ready. With a gentle smile Wisdom is there, and takes my hand as we step out to journey forwards.
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