The Solo Pour

I love to walk at Lettuce Lake Park in Tampa.

It has become one of those places I go when I need to reset. When things feel a little crowded in my head. When I need to step away and get clear again.

There is a stretch of the path I always notice.

It curves just enough that you cannot see what is ahead. You know the trail keeps going, but you do not know exactly where it is taking you in that moment.

Today, that hit me differently.

I realized how much of my life has felt exactly like that.

At 61, you would think I would have everything mapped out. Direction. Clarity. A clean line from here to wherever “there” is supposed to be.

But that is not how it works.

There are still turns I cannot see around. Still decisions that do not come with guarantees. Still moments where I am just taking the next step without having the full picture.

And if I am honest, that used to bother me more than it does now.

Somewhere along the way, you learn that you do not actually need to see the whole path.

You just need to trust that you can handle whatever shows up on it.

I have learned that I have faith. Not just in a bigger picture, but in myself.

I have learned that I have grit. I keep going, even when things feel uncertain or uncomfortable.

I have learned that I have been given gifts. Experiences, instincts, perspective. Things that guide me, even when the road bends.

And maybe most important, I have learned a little bit of grace. The ability to let things unfold without trying to control every turn.

Walking that path today reminded me of something simple.

I do not need to know exactly where I am going.

I just need to keep moving forward.

The path will reveal itself when it is time.

It always does.