It’s the 15th day of the eighth lunar month today, also a day known as the Mid-Autumn Festival. As I sit here typing, my little orange lantern is burning brightly and bravely in the darkness, the sole survivor of a lantern expedition gone wrong, which saw two of its kin being burnt to gory deaths due to impatience on my part.
It looks lonely.
It is, and yet isn’t.
It just so happens that today is also the wedding day of my cousin. While I am not particularly enamoured or fond of this branch of the family, I am rather glad to see him happily wed to a beautiful and loving woman. To know that they have triumphed in the face of obstacles, ranging from different family backgrounds to parental objections, is rather inspiring.
Of course, family being family, nobody could give up the chance to quiz me on where exactly I am on the path to wedded bliss. While I am skilled at the art of dodging, the barrage of questions, together with seeing the relaxed and happy faces of my cousin and his new wife, still managed to to me.
Where exactly am I on this race of life?
Doubt is like a torrent of rain, pouring down on you anywhere that you run to. It wets you, soaks you to your bone and it chills you right to the core. But eventually, it will stop and then you can get your wet clothes off in favour of your favourite ratty old teeshirt which brings you so much comfort and familiarity. And then the world stops being grey and the sun will start shining again.
Perhaps it just so happens that the rain seems neverending now. But it will stop one day, and the finish line will seem nearer than ever.
I wish it would stop.
I wish I could look up to the sky and see what the stars have in mind for me, see the path that they are illuminating for me, rather than the murky depths that cannot be penetrated by my naked eye.
The lantern has gone out.
Everything in its own time.
The answer will come.