I took a walk the other night and on the way home I found myself staring over a small bridge and into what was left of the water passing beneath. The creek dries in the winter, so there’s not much left to look at. Not sure why I stopped. Maybe I was hoping to see what was left of the ducks. They also go away in the winter. I knew that I wanted to think and stare. There was something I was supposed to be figuring out. The bridge was helping.
First I thought about why I was walking home alone. I thought about why I wasn’t coming from a friend’s house. Why wasn’t I heading to a friend’s house? Or even a bar? Why wasn’t I walking home from school? The library? Why wasn’t I doing anything tonight?
The bridge was no more than six feet high and I could see my reflection in the water. The reflected black sky and grey clouds made me feel like I was part of an elaborate puppet show. And, in a way, I was. The universe was the puppet master and I was The Great Puppet Show Below. A slave to my strings. We all are.
I thought about why certain people live the way they do. I decided that the answer was the same as to why I was walking by myself. Some people are the way they are because that’s just how these shows work. I could get into exactly how. Their social constructs, their childhoods, their schooling, their jobs, etc. None of it would make me feel better. It’s just how some shows work. Accepting the way things work now is important. Water under the bridge.
The ducks go away. And the creek dries in the winter.