One foot in front of the other. That seems to be the mantra of the soldier. Regardless of which war, the soldier has to walk and carry. Based on his research, he has concluded that most often the soldier does not know the mission, or where they are even headed. The officers do, and that’s enough. Just keep walking. And when questioned, the soldier will often agree that not only do they not need to know, but they would rather not know. Better to simply keep moving with little or no expectations. In fact, the continual movements free them from becoming too attached to any one place or feeling, combined with the quiet hope that the next place will be better. Dead or alive.
He sat short in the front seat and all he could see was the dashboard lights and the illuminated strip across his father’s eyes. His faith in the moving moments was not a choice but rather a given. He was just glad to be moving without the knowledge of where, when, or why. You might say he was on a “need to grow” basis.
And he did, giving way to a trust in the guiding force he would soon understand is unique to each of us. What is it that propels us along, avoiding the wrath that is possible, and landing on the doorstep of the next series of events, in this limited but fruitful timeline?
Standing along the river edge with a cane pole in hand he discovered that early sense of being alone, standing alone, without support or guidance. And yes the patriarch was close, just down the bank a ways, yet out of sight and mind. If he caught a fish he would pull it in, start a fire, cook and eat like an Indian or mountain man. He would direct his next step, never again leaving it up to someone else to steer.
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