I never walk beside you, nor in front, nor behind. I walk in a parallel line with your shadow. You don't see me, and you usually don't listen to me, but you hear me every day and don't know it. Sometimes I'm that nagging voice in your head. Other times I'm just the wind tickling the blades of grass in the meadow and making funny whistling noises. I have lots of things to tell you. But you like to rush. You like to go about your day without heeding, without worrying, and without wondering what I might be able to do to help you out with. The only time you're ever ready to sit down and have a chat is when your eyes shut and your brain switches from "awake" to "hibernation".
It's sad really---the way that you always seem to forget what I told you when we talked together. And the more you try to remember, the quicker my words dissolve from your memory. Everything I tried to give you fades away when you awake. Like sand stirred up by the bluster of a passing car, my gifts to you are left behind.
With blessing,
I n s p i r a t i o n .
