Where?
Here.
Where is here?
Literally, right where you are.
Right where you have been your whole life. In the middle of everything. As soon as you were born, there was no longer a start or finish, there just was and is what is here now. The middle.
Sometimes the middle is the best day ever. Sometimes the middle is waking up and refusing to get out of bed. Sometimes the middle is getting into a fight with your loved ones. Sometimes the middle is your birthday. Sometimes the middle is being rejected for the 12th time. Sometimes the middle is chronic pain. Sometimes the middle is a home run. Sometimes the middle is a strike out. Sometimes the middle is being hit with the ball…
What is your middle and how do you keep moving, keep playing, keep remaining curious enough to ask the kinds of questions that may actually prove your assertions and suggestions WRONG?
IF you can dream and not make dreams your master… IF you can think and not make thoughts your aim… IF YOU CAN MEET WITH TRIUMPH AND DISASTER AND TREAT THOSE TWO IMPOSTERS JUST THE SAME. IF you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools. IF you can watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn out tools.
Rudyard Kipling
The middle is not a destination. The middle is neither bound by time nor space. The middle is what is always here NOW.
It just reflects what is, and YOU choose what that means again and again and again and again…
