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I live in a neighbourhood with a lot of trees. Every neighbour has at least a 50 foot tree in their garden that blocks out any visibility of a sunset in the summer months. When there’s a storm or its windy, they rustle together loudly, like cicadas. This is called psithurism. It describes a sound that straddles the line between music and noise. I know autumn has arrived because of three things: the dog is shedding her summer coat, the leaves are turning brown and covering the outside patio, and pumpkin season is here.
I keep coming back to this theme, this idea of change. Life is constantly changing, it’s a tangled web with a thousand paths laid out in front of you, each one a different decision on life’s trajectory. It is overwhelming. It’s floating in a sea of uncertainty. And I know you can look at it through different lenses — some view it as incredible opportunity, the vastness of decision-making. Other see it as a thing to fear, that each decision has micro-decisions laid within it. I’m the latter. But the thing about making decisions is that we get to change our minds. Nothing is set or certain, and we get to change our course as many times and as often as we’d like.
I think about this in my writing habits. How, lately, my writing is scheduled around work but there’s structure to it. Monday and Tuesday are for idea generating, Wednesdays and Thursdays for writing, Friday for editing and scheduling. I’m used to doing this sporadically throughout the day, finding pockets of quiet to get my thoughts down. This isn’t where I’m at now. I’m mentally running through ideas, each too fragmented to be fleshed out fully, my mind foggy with thought. I wonder if I need to take a different approach to writing and the work that I share. Perhaps this is a season of short stories and small ideas jotted down on my phone and revisited later.
I’ve always been an anxious kid; life has always felt too grand for me to organise into boxes. Something outside of my control. That feeling of uncertainty has lingered with me my entire life and on two separate occasions, I’ve been told that I worry far too much about unimportant things. I’m now better at accepting curveballs with the understanding that the world and life is constantly evolving. And I should be as well. I need to adopt a flexible approach if I want to feel any sort of success in what I do because happiness and achieving goals doesn’t happen overnight; there are roadblocks and bumps and curves and dead ends. I can either sit around and worry and resist everything; to continue trudging through life in the safe lane or I can instead embrace the desire to go in new directions, an invitation to try something different.
Recognising my ability to change my course is comforting. Somehow, I’ve forgotten how to dream and welcome possibility. I even wrote about the joys of short term habits. I’ve long needed the reminder that I am don’t have to be stagnant.
I’m trying to grow and become a more well-rounded person. My biggest fear is getting to the end of my life and staring at the regrets that I had because I’m too afraid of the trajectory life might take. I’m shifting my perspective, embracing new changes, which feels like perfect timing as the seasons begin to shift. I’m entering a space of growth as the outside world enters a period of hibernation.
-- Beautiful. Xo.