When I get X then I'll do/be/have Y

There is a big line forming to the right. And another to the right of that, and so on, as far as the eye can see. We're trying to get to the ticket stands at the front of the lines We can picture the ticket in our minds already. It's really nothing special, in itself. A little ink, a little chit of heavy stock paper. But printed on the front is written: "Admit One." If we have this ticket, then we can get in. Get the prize that has been denied us because we just didn't have this one thing that would open the door. And it's ok to wait, it will be worth it. We'll stand in the rain and mud, in the snow and wind. And even if we have to leave, just knowing we can come back to this line, with the ticket counter at the end, makes everything we do less of a burden. Because it will all change when we get the ticket ---we know what ticket we need, and what line we need to wait in.

Odd thing is, we've done this before. So many tickets, so many lines before. But this next one is the one that counts. Well that, and maybe those tickets we missed in the past for sundry reasons. Man, those could have been some prizes. But we can't live in the past. Can we? It doesn't change. But the future, we can build castles that never existed before there. We can tear down the shacks and clear the pastures with rusted cars, tractors and buses and build idyllic plantations, with shade trees and hammocks. That would be just the ticket. And we might appreciate a nice lemonade, waiting here in line. It sure tastes good, this cold drink, with the ticket stand in sight and we don't mind the wait. Sometimes the flies are buzzing though, the mosquitos, the sun beating on our heads and it's annoying and we wish we could get the ticket soon. That guy selling lemonade is on break. But hey, he'll be back and, more importantly, the line is moving.

But sometimes we might wonder what it could be like not to stand in line. To have no tickets to anywhere but here. To walk off, away from the crowds, into the forests to make our own trails. Where every step is an arrival and there's nothing we plan to see or be or have but what we discover before us.