The pinch in my lungs reminds me to quit smoking.
The smell of my sweat tells me I’ve been drinking too much.
The weight of my legs asks when I last went for a walk.
Will I change?
Maybe, maybe not.
I’ve been feeling so good, but it almost seems as if I can only support one kind of change at a time whether it’s the heart, the body, or the mind. When I’m onto something with one, another crashes-
-and I fall.
Down the rabbit hole, but without the psychedelics and pocket watches.
Yet here I am.
I’m out. I’m walking. I’m reconnecting – or trying to.
(Is it enough?)
A monarch drifts by as a lazy reminder of this impending change.
But, where’s my cocoon?
Do I have to build it? Am I unknowingly inside of it? Or will I one day just find myself transformed?
It’s hard to know. It’s all guesswork for now.
I just hope that as I fall, I will learn to fly.