There is no resolution here. This is not an after-thought or educational click-bait. I am directly in the middle of it, and I wanted to make note of it now. As a reminder maybe. As a bookmark.
Change is an odd and unexpected thing. There are many stories written about the blossoming of the true person, but I don’t know many that suit me, that tell of a garden inside a person. Shifting many seasons; planting many seeds.
And like the current fall, change is the often met with loss. What becomes tricky, as a man in his new 30s, is how to decide: which leaves must burn away for the season to shift?
I’m speaking a bit poetic, but, again, it’s because I have no answers. I’m in the middle.