By Frank Maulucci, June 6, 2017 – I saw the footprint in front of me as if it had been stamped in the snow. I knew without trying, that when I stepped into it, my foot would fit perfectly. I knew just as well that there was no snow on this June morning and that this footprint was a figment of my imagination. It unsettled me that this print pointed off in a direction I didn’t want to go, to an unfamiliar point on the horizon.
This imprint, which had to be mine, was the first in a series which traced off in front of me in a direction I knew for sure I had never been. Should I fit one foot to this path, I would be off on an adventure of unknown proportions and uncertain ends. Whatever happened, I figured I’d be in for trouble and expended energy; problems would have to be solved.
Maybe solved – how was I to know I wouldn’t retreat right back to this very spot, exhausted and frustrated? Would I meet monsters? Well, there had to be monsters out there…and saints. I’m a believer in the theory that there is just about as much good in the world as there is evil; so what would be the sense, where is the logic?
The logic, I supposed, is twofold first: even if the world beats me back to where I started, much of my exhaustion would be due to the added load of experiences and knowledge I had to carry and the frustration would be over how to use my new found wisdom. And last, because I’m so convinced those footprints weren’t made by me, I am equally convince they must be made for me.