The Nakhla Dog

A leaf does not ask where it is to be blown-- it just blows. It's destination is not the outcome of it's direction or it's trail-- every spin and roll and flutter is the outcome of it's self.

It's this word "outcome" that I'm stuck on. I am currently and always the outcome. It can never happen somewhere in front or behind me, it's essence is in the present. What is left to be waited for?