Next encounter

I sit with people bringing with me what I have been able to acknowledge, and hearing what they have been able to acknowledge. Sometimes the juxtaposition feels utterly magical.

It occurs to me

That writing every day

Brings me to this next encounter.

All I have recognized

All I have written down

All that has poured through me

All that has come through

And out the other side;

All that sits in front of me,

All the holds my hand

Brings me to this next encounter.

Here we are

Here we are

Both of us together.

The next encounter.

Choices

I had lunch this week with a potential colleague.  Every such encounter offers me options, choices, if I allow them.  Every encounter with every person we meet offers options, choices as well.  Way open, way closed.  Options.  Choices.  A veritable cornucopia of possibilities.  Some of them are mine.

I have options

She said

Before she left my office

And moved out again

Into the world.

I have options too,

More than I have named

Until now.

Every choice I make

Opens up the possibility

Of something new.

I delight

In helping people

Find the connections

They need

To take their next steps,

To see

They have options

Like me

Like the woman

Who left my office

To move

Back out

Into the world.