Milestones. They are those things which we pass in our journey.
Birthdays, seasons, holidays, our first love, our first loss and the list is seemingly endless.
The milestones remain as memories. The memories of transition. Sometimes memories of what we once were, to what we are now.
Good or bad are just our value judgments but milestones remain indifferent.
We put value on them. Some are created by us like the holiday season. Some are a creation of growth, of time, and of events.

How these milestones serve us is our decision. We choose. The milestone is just the transition. One has called the transition a gateless gate.
Sometimes it is as if we pass through an invisible door; over an invisible threshold. And in passing we are changed.
And then other milestones are events that seem bound in a tempest where the transition is of epic proportion. And we are changed.
However the milestone remains without judgment.
We carry these milestones in our memory.
This, like the holidays before it, is a milestone for what ever reason you choose it to be. Choose well.
Milestones of pain are often the heaviest to carry in our heart.
Milestones of joy are as light as children's laughter and dance on water as refections of light.

Ever meet someone whom you felt was an "Old Soul"?
It is like we, somehow, know them. It maybe a sense of familiarity or a sense of primordial or prehistorical memory.
And now we "meet" folks on the internet; on blogs, on chats, on email, on discussion groups. Sometimes it's for general reasons, sometimes for rants and raves, sometimes for business, and sometimes it is purely serendipitous.
In the real of the internet stream of souls we may find, even though it is purely in exchanged type, people we resonate with.

Is this good, and can we trust it?

Perhaps we feel that we must make a "visual" assessment to get a true sense of the person.
No; not true. We reveal ourselves in what we write, how we speak. We talk about feelings and our passions, fear and feelings. We paint pictures with our words and share. Truth? some truth; some not true. But then that is the way of life. So we trust our judgment. We trust that people will reveal their true nature. We can either count ourselves lucky with a new friend or move on from the dark to the light.
Light is the stream of souls.

War, battles, conflict, confrontation, rebellion or whatever we realize as a disturbance of a magnitude that damages life becomes a stain.
A stain that refuses to be flushed from the fabric of our lives.
The resolution of such a stain is important.

In resolution the soul is free from the chains we forge that bind it. The links of these chains are shame, anger, hoplessness, powerlessness, desperation, and so many other shades of torment.
Resolution is the light that shines in the dark.
With resolution our soul is freed to fly again. As the soul flys high it leaves a trail of condensation. Pain and suffering are merely the subject of passing. Resolution and joy allow the soul to move with freedom.
And when we see the trail of a free soul, we look the same way we watch a jet overhead. We think, I wonder where it is going and, I wish I was going there too.

What we experience in the world is colorful, interesting, and ever-changing. There are patterns that we see as we grow. As we get more observant and experienced we begin to see the patterns of change much like the changing of seasons.

Patterns flow in various ways bringing us diversity, surprise and heartwarming regularity.
Days pass like the rhythmic clack of the looms bar as it tightens the weave. A rhythm that we miss when it stops. The regularity that we bind our selves to in time. Clack,.. Clackity clack. The weave changes and new color shuttles across the threads.

The song of the looms is forgotten to the realm of reassurance.
What we do or do not is like the changing of the color and the thread of the loom. Our actions effect the pattern as does our inaction.
What comes out is our choice.
Our choices often determine the fruit of the loom

Can it happen?
Can we really see what is round the bend or over the crest of a hill? Seems like we approximate, guess, peek, make up stories to get a line on what is next or what the next turn in the road will reveal.

We played a kelly green golf course on the northern California coast.

A Robert Trent Jones designed course. The emerald fairways made their way down hill to a brine marsh. Then a T shot over the marsh. Making that was difficult enough. Next was a T shot drive up over the crest of hill and around a bend. No sight of what was ahead, we only knew that over the towering hill was a fairway that made a bend to the right.
My Irish attorney with a florid passion for golf and myself with clubs from a flea market and dressed like a beach bum.

He drove long with heavy hooks to the right to make a pirate cringe. Me, hitting irons that contoured the fairway, and plowed the roughs. Seemed that we got to the greens with about the same amount of strokes. When we cleared the marsh we faced the fairway that crested a hill and eventually turned right around a bend leading to the hole.

With an Irish grin from ear to ear he swung his driver with a shot to the left, deep, and hard hoping his catastrophic hook would make the turn that was out of sight.

I opted for a 5 iron and my drive exploded off the T like rocket, trimmed the rough straight up the hill hoping for a strategic drop.

We both had a image in our mind of what lay ahead..
Once again we both got to the pin with the same amount of strokes.
It didn't matter how we got there, or what was waiting for us, it mattered that we made the move .
Let us not worry or fret over what is a ahead unseen, just make the best choices we can and move on.
Let the spirit move you!