I’m on this precipice of substantial changes. The rocks are crumbling underneath my feet. Whether I want it or not, the changes are coming. Someone might as well push me over, for all I enjoy the inevitability of it all. I look down, and I get nauseous. I can’t see the bottom or the ground. I see this thick grey haze covering the landscape. Will I land on another cliff? Will I fall down the rabbit hole? Will I drown is this vast sea of shifting tides?

I smell it. Everywhere I go. I feel it from my bones to my eyelashes. A swirl of wind brushes around me, and I can hear its whispers taunting me. It’s coming, the wind whispers to me. Like it or not, it’s coming.

And then the dreams started. It’s a similar pattern. Successes followed by whirlwind of social activity, followed by a plunge of disaster, marred by a crisis or two, and then a big shift. The cycle starts all over again.

Like the Asgardians in an endless cycle of Ragnarök. I don’t know how to break the circle, only survive the circle. I feel like I need the beach, or these wide endless spaces. Space for my mind to wander free, space for my soul to sing songs.

Those are all the clues you get.

-Ry

Advertisement