On Harlech beach
My son and I walked the length of Harlech beach. It took over 5 hours.
I was worn out and my feet were sore, but I wished it had continued for hours more. We talked about nothings, but also somethings. For long stretches, we were comfortable not talking at all.
We covered over 18 kilometers, but way beyond that, we covered the future, or at least some of its potential opportunities. Of the practicalities of him traveling much much farther afield, perhaps by bike, perhaps by train. Perhaps in hostels, extracting the most from the savings has yet to earn. Perhaps from remote freelance working, leveraging the benefits of skills he has yet to gain. Or perhaps these are dreams never to be realised.
Do I have regrets? Perhaps...
- not believing in myself sooner
- not realising how many of my weaknesses were actually strengths.
... but then again, without these already taken paths, perhaps I wouldn't have been here to enjoy this stroll.
In thinking of his future, I naturally think of my own. Instead of wondering 'what if' I had used any parts of my time differently, I choose to ponder what time may still lie ahead. What stories might I get to tell him of my paths taken, while longing to hear of his. A common observation is apparently that we will eventually regret the risks not taken ... though, when I reflect on my near misses on motorbikes, I think I will be thankful for the fortune that has already been bestowed upon me.... and when I try to apply the same lens to his future, my mind wisely decides it is beyond my comprehension.
"One cannot live at all, unless one lives fully now."Alan Watts