All Aboard


Remember how you used to spin yourself dizzy, just to watch the lamps and couch and pictures on the wall keep swimming past when you stood still?

The adult equivalent – which (judging from my disorientation) I have inadvertently discovered – is significantly less fun.  Now that the room has stopped spinning, I find – dervish-like – that the world is different because I have changed.  I wrote more, slept less and concentrated under pressure to a degree I didn’t know I could.  I make no apologies for how I have whimpered and licked my wounds in the process. The hardest obstacles to navigate remain inside myself.

The intensity of these past few months has been, in a way, the greatest medicine of all. It made my options clear,  at least in the moment – sit down and write, get up and start packing, you stink – take a shower.  If my purpose was no grander than not to fail, that was good enough. Simply making it to the end is a victory.

But, starting next week, I’m gonna get back on that ride, and go again.  My purpose is ever-so slightly clearer, and I know something I didn’t know before:  there is no turning back.  Everything, good or bad, is in front of me.  Truckers, you are not down yet.


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