I’ve been sitting on this story for about a decade, but it keeps resurfacing and remerging, like a stick that disappears only to be brought back up by the current of life. I can sense that currant shifting, the course of this gentle ebb and flow giving way to the great turner of the tide and calmer of the storm.

You may have noticed that I’ve begun a bit of a metamorphosis of late and it’s been a seesaw between excitement and terror. Fears sometimes pop up as I step out into something new— into being new. What if I make the wrong choice about what to do next?