Originally written 31st July 2009.
A few weeks ago, Tahnee and I decided to go for a bushwalk in the Blue Mountains. We picked a track which was estimated to take four hours. Not actually too enthusiastic about walking for that long we decided we’d take the short cut which apparently appeared half way through the trek. Probably a couple of hours into the walk (when we’d discovered how different our opinions were on what constituted a “track”) we came to a seat and sat down to decide what we would do.
“Do you actually know where we are going, because this would actually be quite nice If I knew where we are?”. I had resolved myself to the fact that we would walk until we saw something worth seeing, Tahnee wasn’t so enthusiastic as much as concerned that we were only going to have to turn around at the end of it all.
Without exaggerating we probably took another ten steps before stumbling into a picnic area complete with car park, public toilets and a dozen or so tourist coaches which had stopped off to see what was clearly quite a popular lookout.
The irony was not lost on us, and how similar it can be to other areas of life. You never know how close you are to change, to things being different from what they are. There was always the choice to turn around and walk back the distance we’d become familiar with knowing where we would end up, or persevere that little further and see something worth seeing – who knows how close you are to the same?