Some years ago, my heart would go on a journey, as my feet walked the mile from my house to the Chester River Bridge, then over into town, usually before sunrise each morning. The journey was not to the river, or town, or any other physical destination, ultimately. The journey was to places where my heart traveled, and found, and eventually began to recognize. As my heart learned to look out, my eyes followed. I took advantage of my first smartphone with an 8 mp camera, about 6 years ago, to begin taking pictures of what I saw, and eventually, (learned to recognize and capture) what I felt. As I can understand it now, I was entering a new season of life; one that has brought me to be positioned and better equipped to connect with those around me, particularly with music, and make perhaps, a deeper contribution. Or to approach it from another angle, to realize more of my potential. Or yet another angle, to become more deeply who I am. It's been a few years since I lived near the bridge. These days I'm more inclined to be found walking near my current house, especially at night, taking advantage of a secluded location, an open sky, and little light pollution. I'm especially happy when the moon is in a visible phase. My heart jumps, as it did recently, when I see the bright moon rising in the sky as I pull in my driveway, or walk out my front door. One night, as I walked out and encountered the moon, I blurted out "Hi buddy!" Another reason to be glad that I don't have neighbors.
Back when I would walk over the bridge, I was on display, but it didn't bother me (usually. I wasn't keen on the occasional pickup truck of rednecks who would yell out to startle me, probably to see if they could make me drop my phone). Both sunrises and sunsets could be stunning from the bridge, and I was absorbed. These days, however, I am happier to be in my secluded, private space and leave being "on display" for when I'm at the piano, or on the stage. And thanks to my heart exercises, my "display window" from the piano/stage is quite a bit less foggy than before this season of life began. A time for everything, and a season for everything, as one season follows another.