The Path that Brought You to Where You Are

There was a day when you found yourself in a strange situation and you did the best you could. Before you knew it, you were walking through it.

You noticed a patch of wildflowers.

You made a friend.

Darkness fell. You saw an eye rise into the sky and believed it to be the moon. But now you know it was the eye of God, watching to see what you would do.

With one of his eyes, he watches the world. With his other eye, he watches you.

You kept walking.

A ravine led to a stream and that stream led to a river.

That first river led to a much broader river.

Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn invited you onto their raft. You had an adventure.

And then you had your heart broken.

Got sick and recovered.

Had a stroke of luck. Stretched it as far as you could.

You closed your eyes as you clicked the heels of your ruby red slippers and said, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

When you opened your eyes, you knew that home wasn’t there anymore. The sun had risen while you were away, and home had evaporated into that thin blanket of warm air that wraps our bountiful earth.

That was the day when you started looking forward and quit looking back

And that is how you came to be where you are.

The story that I have told you about yourself is the story of every successful business owner I have ever known.

One of my business partners sent me a text at 3:37 this morning. It was a long and fascinating story that she wrote several years ago.

This is how it begins.

“Tomorrow, I leave the trailer park for good. I can never come back. None of us can. So I’d like to reminisce a little with some of my favorite memories of the place that I’ve called home for so many years. They make me smile…”

The middle of her story is a delightful account of the all the crazy adventures she had with her companions on the log raft as it floated down the river of her youth. But it was the ending of her story that made it precious.

“The giant trees were the big-top under which we conducted our circus of crazy. Here we created our own reality, full of unforgettable characters and ghetto fabulous adventures. No one could touch us. We lived in the middle of town, but existed in our own world. No matter what happened “out there,” we could always come home, be ourselves, start a fire, and connect. We were safe. We were a family.

For years the echoes of our laughter have bounced off the old trees that have always shaded us. I like the think that the vibrations of our laughter are trapped inside the bark of those trees – that if you were to put your ear up to one of them, you could still hear the crackling of the fire and the cackling of our laughs.

It’s been one hell of a ride. I’m sad to leave, but I can’t wait to see what comes next.

Goodbye trailer park, hello world.”

Today my partner lives in a sun-drenched house with a beautiful garden that overlooks the ocean.

I’ve never been there, but I’ve seen the photos.

She is a remarkable ad writer.

Roy H. Williams