Placing the feeling I get when I am visited by the seasons changing is hard to find. It is unexpected foremost between the lapses of weather. I never think it will last longer than it should or be surprised by how short its stay was. The feeling I keep coming back to when fall starts is the reassuring resilience and rudimentary realization of a reminder. It is the start of the closing of a year, the denouement of all life's annual moments coming again into full view, and the choice of packing them away as advising mementos or next season's fertilizer. I cannot escape the warmth of Florida for long; the climate change has made the state of cartoon's favorite mouse and I painfully aware of this. The warmth I am speaking of has nothing to do with complicated configurations of coffee or cliche Lifetime or Hallmark chick flicks either. The proper distribution of heat is an awareness at surface level that begs for a relief, a chance to wade in the pool of self-awareness.

Where I am now, will not always be where I end up. Though the present moment can be an accurate indicator of my future, I do not let it rule my next step before I have thought of it or even before I have thought to have the thought. Fall is a time to admit that I do not always have control of the changes taking place. I cannot control where I float or fly in the uncertain winds I face. It is during this airborne free fall, to my mind, that I can focus my efforts, and turn the fears and doubts into observations, goals, a turning over of a new leaf. I can survey the land before starting the path. I can fall and get back up as I finish the path. Rather than recede into the den of denial, I chose to take the steps towards the high road, as steep and as difficult it can be. I did not think people would ever appreciate or recognize the good I am capable of because I did not expose myself to the potential of support. All I could think about and see was the judgement and dissidence of others towards me until I decided to look forward. Not over them, not under them, not through them, just forward.

Fall brings with it a sense of careful immediacy. I feel a schedule coming on, but digest it one day at a time. The season's change does not have to be painful as much as it must be necessary to take root again and again. Among the many choices out of my control, I know that I still possess choices that are my own. I cannot catch everything life throws at me. I can choose what to pick up, hand off, and leave behind. It is usually around this time of year I find myself questioning the most. I will have to continue to find the answers too. What a change that will be: falling as a match, striking under immense friction, all for the efficiency of a fire.

Burn bright in the darkness or curse the darkness, it is your choice.