The rhythm of change

31 Mar

Every year, right around this time, I develop a warm feeling of excited anticipation.

I wake up in the morning and the air smells like possibility,
the sun on my face feels like a rhythm that my life is about to change.
As I wait for the change to start happening,
I always find myself dreaming of what it might be:
a new job, a house change,
winning the big bucks possibly?
Usually, the change is almost always more like realising that it’s time to do the laundry and suddenly hitting the jackpot with clothes I’d forgotten about completely. Regardless, this feeling always surprises me, and I treasure it each year, whatever form it choses to take.

It’s sort of like a reminder that I am not yet at all jaded by life,
that I still believe in great impossible things such as moving my whole entire self to a different country or becoming something I’m not yet.
I cling to this part of myself like a child who knows the Tooth Fairy isn’t *really* real, and yet refuses to admit it.
Perhaps this is my version of refusing to achieve maturity.

But hey, if that feeling of pure joy and eagerness disappears, all that’s left of autumn is the air getting cooler and the grey mornings getting darker, then how boring is that?

I don’t think I will ever quite stop dreaming about the changes, the could be’s and the will be’s… which is why this time the impossible rhythm is really quite something.
It might be enough to take my heart and soul, my ideas and my life to another level above laundry baskets and hidden socks to an unknown mystery.
But I wont know till I get there.

London here we come.

flower-st1

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