The bridge

As the road led onto the bridge, I sank back into the seat of the car. The voice of Cecilia Bartoli filled my head with the sound of a beautiful Baroque aria. A single seagull floated lazily in the air, and I permitted my mind to do the same thing. In this way Sweden was left behind us; Denmark was still waiting in the horizon in front of us.

It was as though I did not exist at the moment; it was as though I existed perfectly at the same moment. Tranquility filled every part of my mind and body. The bridge ended, and the car dove into the tunnel that is the driver's first meeting with the Danish mainland. The moment had gone; I was forcefully brought back to the reality of everyday life. Cecilia changed her mind, skipped the classical era and attacked a romantic aria with purpose.

Travels abroad will widen your horizon; so the saying goes. The question is whether that horizon is what you see far away or what you see deep inside yourself. Crossing the bridge I had found a meaning - a plan. It would be an exaggeration to label it as my purpose, but at least it was a purpose. As the Cheshire cat reminds us: If you don't know where you want to go, it doesn't matter which road you take. But now I know where I want to go.

There are no road signs; I have a goal, but don't know how to get there. At this moment I find comfort in this line from Tolkien's poem: "Not all those who wander are lost;". Because having a goal is the first step of finding my own path.