Catharsis

The sun and the rhythm of the train are at my back. Both are creatures of habit, same as me, and when the sun sets it's a different kind of pacing that the El takes on. . . it's slow and lazy and rippling with an underbelly. The wind is blowing today too, and there's cold air coming soon. The fallout of what was to be a ferocious storm that thankfully wasn't.

I'm sitting here basking in the warmth that comes when the breeze stops, and loving the brush of chill on the back of my neck. It's this up and down feeling of wanting a sweater and hanging on just another few breaths, showing up the chill to keep my spot in the sun's path.

I fight against urges like this all the time. It's part of what's made me sad when I've had sad moments the past month and a half. I don't like upticks in tempo, especially when I specifically asked for something lento. I'm the conductor of this here life, but I haven't been lately. . . and I can't be until I give in and go with the flow.

I am about to grow and it's going to be an amazing thing. This experience I'm having will teach me something, I just can't see past a huge pillar of negative energy that stands before me. I'm struggling to see the good instead of focusing on the good. That's disturbing. That's where I need help.

But what I do know is what happens next is the stuff that will be transformative. It will be hard, and it will hurt and I will struggle and then. . . it will be calm, and ok and breezy. With just an occasional rumble on the rickety tracks.

I really forgot what it's like to grow. Sometimes it requires a lot of self and a proactive approach and other times you're just thrust into a place, and you have to decide to bear it and prosper or stay shy and never know what could have been.

To coming out from under it all. . . and (eventually) rising above.