The Winds of Change
My favorite part about fall and winter isn’t the scarves and sweaters. It’s not the holiday drinks at Starbucks or the time spent with people I love spouting of cheesy feelings of affection. It’s the winds of change.
When I was a teenager, it always felt magical when my friends and I were out walking around after dark, albeit at the mall or a local park or wherever we thought it was cool to hang out, and there was that first cold breeze of the season that curled its way around our cheeks and tugged at our scarves.
The air felt electric. Butterflies would always flutter in my stomach from the anticipation. I wasn’t quite sure what I was nervous or excited for, but I knew there were good things to come.
Unfortunately I live in Houston now, so I don’t get as many fall breezes as I would like. But the shifts always come, wind or not.
It always seems that when I least expect it, change slinks around the corner and curls itself around my cheeks, tugging at my scarf. This year it came stomping in like a drunken elephant. But hey, that’s cool too.
2017 has been a year of change and growth. I accomplished many things I thought I couldn’t and experienced things I had hoped I wouldn’t. But right now. when I’m waist deep in the throes of a paradigm shift, I’m just going to sway with the wind.
Even though I’m terrified, I’ll trust in myself and the possibilities that lie before me.
The wind hasn’t let me down yet.