The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

—William Stafford, 1914–1993

I’ve held onto the thread my entire life, even when I didn’t know I was doing it, when I couldn’t see that it had gotten twisted with other people’s threads, when I thought I had dropped it, and especially now, when many think that I’ve cut it and left it lying in the dust.

For a long time, I thought that my thread could be held by someone else, and that I, in turn, could hold theirs. I didn’t understand that each of us gets a different one, a unique line created by The Great Designer that connects Him to each of us. I had no idea that these fibers are one of a kind—until recently.

So now I work to disentangle the crazy, colorful mess that I have found within myself, and as I slowly and carefully return straying threads to their rightful owners, I get glimpses of my own delicate, beautiful, shimmering string and no longer doubt that it will get me where I need to go.