A. J. had formulated a thousand different scenarios, and they all required a leap of faith. There were just too many variables involved, with combinations tending toward infinite possibilities. It was beyond A. J.'s ability to order and control. He had to trust in his objective, and hold to a belief that things would work out.
A. J. chuckled to himself. So like the Fool of the Tarot. It was as if he had been a querrant and had drawn the card. He was one step from the precipice and the vertigo of freefall, at point zero - the Fool's number - restarting, and on his way to a new beginning. And like the Fool, with just his rucksack, A. J. carried all he needed - to do, or be - in his own being. All he lacked was the dog as a travelling companion. It was an apt metaphor for the moment - it was as if someone were writing his script.
A. J. surveyed what was before him. There was no easy way. There never was. You can never be sure except in hindsight: folly or wisdom; disaster or success; destruction or creation; ruin or transformation. And it doesn't really matter, not when you are willing to risk all for something. There is only the objective.
"Trust," he whispered, "and belief." A. J. closed his eyes, and with a knowing, and a logic beyond reason, he took the next step.
- The Fool
- photo by Rodney Smith