Expedition Luke Shaw

Expedition

Maybe we will always be lonely travelers looking up to the sky in search of the east or west. Maybe life is whichever way your shadow is stretched. Maybe love is a lightning bolt that finds you in open fields, despite the pitch black night’s embrace.

Whatever the answers are, I hope they comfort you. I hope the life you carve into this rock is one you love and one you wish to pass on. I hope you find the strength to find what makes you strong, what makes you weak, and what makes you feel like a child. The gift of a life worth living is easily recognizable when you feel like a child again, sprawled out at the beginning of each day like an infant in its crib. I hope whatever passion you find oozes from you like the blood of a god. I hope you become a giant in the world and a mouse in the spirit. Loneliness might be one of God’s greatest gifts to the fragile human spirit. It has the potential to push you ever forward and never backward.

Lean into despair as it clasps the clammy fingers around you. You may feel it is reaching for your neck, but my friend, that is when you are about to learn to relax and find the warmth within that formerly-cold-embrace. You might be cast out into what feels like some white void––an Antarctic wilderness, but blink, my friend, and you will find yourself on the airwaves coming to me. Crunch your feet beneath. That is not snow, but warm laundry.

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