The seasons are changing. I keep repeating that to everyone, but foremost myself. It's clear; the air nips at my chin if I don't keep it tucked into my scarf, and full days of rain remind me that my outerwear is not water proof. Clear skies shift and are replaced with a lucid cover of greys. Soft and mellow anticipation of blustering winds comes and goes with the arrival of gust lifting surprisingly long strands of hair into the air, like antennae.
Shifting into a space that is open and inviting, however challenging, maybe inviting because it is challenging, challenging because it is open. Engaging seems just ahead.
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Sometimes you meet people and they make an impression. Sometimes you meet people and they hardly register as a blip on your radar. Sometimes the briefest of encounters stay with you forever, and occasionally a seemingly meaningless meeting turns into something of longevity.
Out of two potential relations, what then makes one relationship last, and another falter? How can maintaining a relationship with someone on the other side of the world come so much more naturally than staying in touch with someone just up the street?
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It's all about movement, now. And daring. Moving, and daring.
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6 comments:
'moving, and daring'
i like that =)
Yeah, me too. It costs something on the courage front, but I'm betting on the rewards at the end.
She lives!
I know, I know... Shoot, I'm more alive than in a long time - probably the reason I haven't had the urge to sit down and reflect for a while..
Heh, same here. I'm like a freaky old dynamo that suddenly came back to life
It's good to see that you're back up and running Moif. I've been looking forward to that for years - and what a joy that it's all moving again :.)
Hugs
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