While the Iron is Hot

When what you most fervently desire and are prepared to change your life for depends on another's agreeable assent, often their timing is not decisive enough to win that future.

You make your pitch and state your will, by no means a stranger suspected of vacillations, but your offer is gently rebuffed or passively deferred to a time that will not arrive.

Months later, you've made peace with that dream dying, or have found another alternative, often a better one, as it was the direction that mattered, not the details. The old iron is cold, and when the other returns and now seeks the warmth of your previous offer, you are no longer able to accede or even find its notion desirable, as they could not move with you when the moment was perfect. Now there is not even a spark, and no aspect of the dream any longer sustains.

We sense moments of opportunity for long passion and our spirit burns to stretch and amplify them, recognizing what they can be. While others are free to decline this journey, their late return and accord after suffering the lonely shivering and doubt of a winter's prolonged cold rain are not the embers of passion to which we will respond, and we necessarily refuse to pursue what was lost to hesitation.

We go at the instant everything is right and needs to move forward, ardently kindling a lasting fire that keeps us hot and astir.