Winds of Change

Still abuzz and dancing through tree tops I sit back and begin to contemplate what next. Where is this journey taking me? What is the next saga I call my life?

The winds of autumn bring change and have been this way for as long as I can remember. The crispness that blows through my window late at night creates a stir, an itch that I cannot ignore. The wind howls through every part of me and eggs me on. Come on, do it, follow your gut, take that step, take that leap. What is the point in standing still? What do you want? What are you waiting for? Do it. Do it.

And so I listen to this not so soft-spoken phantom, and I hear things loud and clear. The trouble is that my head is getting in the way. The heart, the gut, all on board, but it is the pragmatism, the rational side of my brain that is derailing me.

The heart screams go and the guts echo and cheer me on. They cheer on the thoughts of selling all that I own and head further away from here, head east. I’ve never seen the Atlantic from Canadian shores. I’ve never felt an urge so strong. They cheer on the thought of relocating to somewhere new, somewhere fresh and somewhere I could place so much hope, so much energy, and so much intrigue. They celebrate the magic and the mystery I sense. They stand for a feeling that might be more and the intensity of what couldn’t be less. They root for the forgotten underdog of love and passion – the stuff only writers write about but forget to experience along the way. I hear their thunderous applause for saying it like it is and see their vibrant gleams of bliss with each topsy-turvy sensation.

They bang drums and play trumpets to the tune of howling winds, never to miss a beat, never to miss a chance for me to hear. It is loud, it is clear but then the rational side of me rears its ugly head and questions the thoughts and raises doubts. It brings me back to a time where I made a pact with myself – one of chasing. And the heart and guts show their scars. The doubts of things working and being as real as they seem emerge. The heart tumbles and the guts twist, leaving a tangled knot, diving into a loop-de-loop gone oh so wrong.

So much of me wants to tune out the logic, wants to silent the doubts, the worries, even the fear. So much of me wants to hear the drums and trumpets, the roars and applause with absolute clarity that I will pack to the rhythm, I will dream with it and somehow walk along the shores of the Atlantic to its tune.

But for the time being, I am tormented; caught between my heart and guts and brain, and forced to listen to both sides.