We have arrived at the end of fall, and so we bracket this day’s end with the same song we played at the beginning of fall. Often, this is the post when we might have looked back at the fall season and all the things we did, but I’m not feeling nostalgic this soon – it’s too fresh, and I’m a bit too tired. If you’re truly interested in going back, scroll all the way to the bottom of the post, and look on the left for the little link labeled ‘Older Entries’. Repeat that until you find something approaching summer, then keep going…
Another compelling reason not to recap anything here is the simple fact that I just don’t remember much of it. That’s a bit of a problem, indicative of my gaining years and losing faculties. So much of this fall has been simply going through the motions, setting myself on autopilot, days moving swiftly by in habitual, ordered fashion, anything to maintain momentum, even if the momentum is the bare minimum required to sustain, to survive, to get up one more time.
I want to drown in your moonbeam…
This fall was partly about faking it, about pretending that I’d made it through the wilderness of this past summer and was beginning again, and that it was ok. But I don’t think things are ok. No. In fact, I know they are not ok, and there’s a likely possibility that they will never be ok again. I wasn’t quite ready to admit that at the start of fall. Leaving the options open for something to change my mind felt like the right thing to do. It gave me the spark of hope, even if nothing ever ignited or came of it. Maybe this winter I will learn to face it, to accept and somehow embrace the predicament of not being ok.
The comforts of fall grow even more scant in winter, but I’m not afraid of that. Discomfort is often the only way to grow, and even though 48 years old feels closer to the end than the beginning, I’m giving myself some room, and time, to get better. Let’s see what this winter will bring…
