Bridges

I like bridges.  They enable me to get from a to b.  Unlike the migrating wildebeest in Africa, I do not need to run the gauntlet of nasties in the river.  Back in the days when there were not crocodiles around Townsville I went down a river on a rubber tyre.  A huge snake watched me pass from its hole in the bank.   I would not do that now.  Snakes would be the least of my worries.
The Captain Cook bridge is great for getting to the Gold Coast.  I like the Goodwill bridge near QUT that connects across the river to Southbank.  After crossing that bridge, I ate something at Southbank, that I made sure I had next time.
But for me metaphorically, not all bridges need to be permanent structures. Some do.  They will always need maintenance and upkeep, but they are important to me.
Other bridges need to be burned.  Some served a purpose but are now obsolete.  I burned a bridge leaving Townsville.  I was born there, grew up there, made a lot of friends there and loved it.  But it was time to move on.  That was not easy.  More than once I returned my packed bag from the car.  Going into the great unknown is well…unknown.  I could have stayed and been comfortable.  But comfort was not the thing I needed.  Growth was.  I have no regrets.  I have made a lot of good friends here.
Some bridges I needed to burn because I never should have crossed them in the first place.  They were like bridges over unnecessary detours.  Once I came back over the bridge, I determined I did not want to go that way again and burnt it down (figuratively).  There is no doubt I could go that way again, but it would be harder.  Besides, the river may contain nasties and that is a chance I am not willing to take.
Getting rid of a book was burning a bridge for me one time.  Normally I give books to some charitable organization.  Perhaps someone else would like to read the book I have no future use for.  In this instance, I wanted the book out of existence.  It was a guy’s observations while under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs in Mexico.  I did not think that book would do anyone any good.  Back then in Townsville we could burn off in an incinerator.  I burned that book.  An unexpected explosion in the incinerator at the time did make me wonder if there was more to that then met the eye.  Normally I think burning books is akin to a crime.  I did not think that in this case.
I know a number of people that have had to get rid of things that were given to them in good faith.  That is really hard sometimes.  The last thing I want is to cause offence.  Sometimes getting rid of something is needed though if I am to burn a bridge.  I do not believe in getting rid of something that is someone else’s.  That is their decision.  I am responsible for burning my bridges, not another’s.
Bob Dylan sang, “I wish that I’d been a doctor, maybe I’d have done some good in this world, instead of burning every bridge I crossed.  I don’t feel to burn every bridge I crossed.  Some are good and should last a lifetime.  Others I should never have crossed.