Change

A man has a lot of time to sit and think, driving halfway across the country.

What do you think about, you might ask. Do you think about arriving back at home?  Do you think about where you have been?

Mostly I thought about my life.

My life seems to be in a large state of flux at the moment.  Between leaving to go to Old Home and drive back and the move and the work I need to get down while both of the other of these are happening I am feeling stretched.

But I am feeling stretched internally as well.

I am at the point that something needs to change.  My life has been pushed to the edge of cliff that it was on; the only solution is to climb up or fall down.

The falling part, although theoretically painful, is at least not as frightening to me in the sense that I understand the rocks at the bottom.  It is the climb up that frightens me more.  Why is this?  Because the climb up only seems to promise pain with no reward, the ache of arms and legs to a point that I cannot clearly see or define from here.

And it involves change - of me.  I am never very good with change, especially change at involves interactions with other people and with how I view myself in the world and more importantly, how I view myself in my own world.

I sense it and shudder.  It involves being brave, standing up, deciding and committing to actions, and following a course.  All things I do not feel terribly proficient in.

But I am not sure that I have a choice.  The cliff has run out.  The rocks threaten below.

Only the path up offers safety - even if it is only the safety of the unknown.