It’s pretty awesome to have friends far and wide who will send me postcards from their journeys. Taking that one level up, it’s pretty awesome to have friends that travel and explore. The destinations needn’t be far away, instead, they only need to be experienced. After all, what exploration could be wilder and sometimes more remote than the deepest parts or your own heart? And yet nothing could be closer.
When the mail was brought in this morning, among the chaff was a curious plastic bag from Canada Post. It apologetically carried the mangled remains of a greeting from British Columbia. The card was sent by Ally, one of the most intrepid explorers of the self and the world around her that I have the pleasure to know.
My first thought was that she’d be disappointed to know that the postcard arrived in such a state – the message it bore torn away. But as I thought about it some more, what I had instead was another clue about life and people. Somehow, perhaps by happenstance, perhaps divine intervention, this tattered card clung to my name and found its way to me, persevering like its sender. This puzzle piece, a mere fragment of its original message, is part of a greater narrative which is still but a mystery to me.