A woman undergoes a reluctant evolution, but an evolution all the same.
Lately, I’ve been feeling a shift. Ever since daylight savings, things have been different — darker, ironically, in this economizing of sunlight, but also quieter. A quiet that feels ominous. That kind of cinematic quiet when sound disappears, and everything turns to slow motion as the world blows up around you. All is muted except for the faint tinkling of your life’s debris falling back to earth.
I’m being melodramatic, but this is how it feels right now. My life is changing. It’s changing whether I like it or not, and in ways I can’t even articulate or enumerate yet. What began as the movement of one notch on the clock face seems to have set in motion a cosmic landslide beneath my feet.
I’m not someone who enjoys change, yet I am very adaptable. I have lived in three different cities over the past 10 years. I have attended different schools, worked different jobs. I’ve been in love twice… And regardless of changes, everything works out in the end—I do believe this.
Yet, for me, it’s always a reluctant evolution, grasping at the inside of the cocoon as the winds of a new season pull me outward. Once I’m out, I’m fine. It’s choosing that moment to launch my inaugural flight that’s a challenge. Luckily, life doesn’t always give you the choice. Sometimes that cocoon is ripped from you, or you from it, and either way, you might as well fly.
“And Your Point Is? Helga Weber @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.