Those who are close to me know that I am not comfortable crossing bridges. I don't like them at all! Even on foot while going for leisurely walk I get butterflies in my stomach going over a bridge. I have been known however, to pause at the railing of a bridge for an especially gorgeous view, but it's quite a sight I have to admit.
First I slowly reach both hands out in front of me and when I finally grasp the railing tightly enough I gently lean forward to gaze over the view of what's below - with stomach firmly in throat! Sometimes I even manage to let go with one hand to snap a photo or two.
The bridge captured in the photo above crosses over the Hudson River in eastern New York state. I had to travel over it on the way to a wonderful, refreshing weekend in western Massachusetts. I had my eye on the prize of healing and rejuvenation the weekend promised to provide and not even ten bridges could have kept me away!
As I drove, and drove and drove some more, higher and higher into the mountains I was struck by the beauty of the area. I had to slow my pace on the curving, hilly country roads which gave me more time to experience the scenery. I would later realize that that was just the beginning of my attitude adjustment; there was much more to come.
For a long time - I'm talking decades - I hadn't been doing a very good job of listening to myself. My inner voice had been drowned out by all the external voices around me and the din of everyday life. After awhile I couldn't even recognize it anymore. I couldn't differentiate it from the others. Nothing was ever clear, just a blended cornucopia of clanging sounds ever playing in my mind.
I knew I needed something to help me discover it again. As it turned out, crossing that bridge to that quiet, mountain retreat helped me to begin picking out my voice again. I let it take its rightful place of prominence and let the others fade into the background, to be recalled when, and only when, needed.
I realized that I liked the way it sounded - and the things it says! It may not be right all the time. It may not be right for everyone. But it's mine, and it's right for me. From now on I'm going to listen to it, and I'm going to trust it.
