It will become clearer at a later time, I think. Like the first groggy glimpse of the day, sometimes things slip out of focus for a second or two, demanding a second look when better rested. In that gray area between light and dark, when the day seems unsure whether it’s beginning or ending, I stand poised but indeterminate. Back and forth I waver, debating which way to go. This is a new thing. All my life I’ve been extremely good at being decisive, sometimes viciously so. Lately though, I find myself weighing options more than before, hesitating and second-guessing. There are times when such thoughtfulness has proven beneficial. It’s a sign of growing up.
There is nothing major on my mind. No life decisions that will impact anyone else around me. This is merely an internal debate over the plan for the day, or the next day if I happen to have awakened in the middle of the night. It’s so tricky to tell in the dark early hours of winter.
The question is how to start. What, and where, to eat? Sweet or savory? The eternal breakfast conundrum. How best to get there? By foot or mass transit? Boston is small enough for either when the weather is fair. On this morning it is anything but. And there’s that wavering again. Commit and execute. I used to be so good at it.
I decide on a plan and finally look at a working clock. There is an hour or so before I need to leave. A few more moments in a cozy bed, while the snow falls outside. With a basic itinerary in mind, I can relax at last.
