I don't have anything new to write about.
I am doing the same old things: Struggling with the same old problems, hanging with the same old people, driving the same old roads, visiting the same places, eating the same foods, drinking the same beverages, spontaneously breaking down in the same spontaneous way. Discovering the same things about myself that I discovered when I was four and reliable.
It isn't bad, though there are bad days, nor is it particularly grand, although there are grand moments. I haven't felt like any thought crossing my mind is particularly original, be it fierce or mundane. Despite my despair or joy, my reaction to life has been a bit muted. But I can feel my voice getting louder, the restlessness returning.
Because the wind is whipping through the trees,
and I know change is coming.
This fall is amber colored for me. Bright and hopeful, while also being a stark and constant reminder that change is coming, is here. Things cannot continue in the same way. And I am relieved.
There is something so honest about yellows. They can be painfully optimistic or openly defiant, calmly astral or invigorating. That is the season we are in. Diverse and complex, boring excitement constantly interfering with plans or expectations.
And I am not afraid to embrace that honesty.
I never used to like yellow. But I'm finding it to be exactly what I need now. More and more I'm finding it painted across my life. Everything is changing.
Maybe everything needed to change.