Fog still sits outside my doorway. The world complains but I am comforted. Perhaps because I have always loved the unseen, the mystery, and the unknown, thick visually limiting fog does not disturb me, it stirs me.
Everyone is looking for clarity, but I feel no rush to solve the trivia which is my life. The days blur into each other anyway. Whether we like it or not, there will always be some part of our lives that is in a fog. Unclear, difficult to navigate through, void of simple answers. It is life. And like the cold dense fog, there is beauty in it.
There is beauty in the unknown. You ask yourself what lurks within the mist. What is hiding from my sight. For a brief moment, it can be anything. Your imagination can run as wild as you wish it. Or you leave it tamed, if only to hold onto your sanity. But that frightful rush caused by needing an answer. The madness that is felt by seeking clarity is beauty. It is a beauty that can only be found in fog.
There are only two ways life can answer your question. It will either tell you to step back, and watch the fog lift. Do not move, don’t breath, until your eyes fool you into thinking it is safe to do so. Let the fog ascend and with it your burdens.
Or life will say, step deeper into the unknown. Be cautious, but be brave. Give your senses some exercise. Lean in further into the mystery, the grey darkness, and find out the truth for yourself. Unchain yourself from timid waiting and give into courage and faith. Trust that your heart can see what eyes cannot.
Fog makes us nervous. Life makes us nervous. Both are very beautiful