Last night, I was ready to take over the world.
This morning, I fumed, my eyes doused in hot, bitter tears. Even the orange of my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season couldn’t tinge the red I saw. My thoughts infused with guilt and anger, I gulped the dregs of my precious PSL with remorse. I was mad at the world, mad at nothing, mad at everything.
There is beauty in rough edges. Hard times show their light through poetry and lessons learned. There was no reason to cry, except that I needed to. My moments of upset led me down a path towards quiet resolution. My anger bubbled, simmered, cooled. An imperfect path.
So here we are. September has begun, a new season in the air. The Hogwarts Express is boarding. Autumn colors coat the shelves of every store. It’s a balmy 93° F in Los Angeles, but the promise of fall has my fingers tingling. This new beginning carries with it an impervious weight, and my anger stemmed from the lack of appreciation I held for this opportunity. I can do anything I set my mind to – as long as I can reel it in enough to actually hit the ground running.
Fall is my favorite season, summer my least. This transition is usually filled with joy. Hope. Excitement. This time, it brimmed with excuses and frustration, but the first day is not over yet. Today I reboot my bullet journal, in artful response to my annoyingly lazy summer. What have I achieved? If anything. I’ve come to the realization that what I’ve been doing is not enough to fuel fulfillment. Perhaps that was the point of falling into this pit of quicksand. I’m surrounded by ROUSes, having only just discovered they exist. It’s time to overcome my fear of functionality and pull myself out (no Westley needed!).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOv5ZjAOpC8
I have moved on from my frustration. I am on my way out of the Fire Swamp. I’m ready to take over the world again.
Thanks, Max and Valerie. I will.
