I stand in my yard, snapping photos of crepe myrtle blooms that look like crunch berries, and I try to keep the PODS out of the shot. But I can't avoid them, can't pretend that I don't see them. Three houses up for sale, three houses sold. Standing still in the midst of the movement, in the whirlwind of change, is not a comfortable place for me. I feel like a child, childlike, where's everyone going? I resist the urge to do something. Make plan, plot my way out. Figure out what's next. I know where all of this is coming from. That's the benefit of time. Of wisdom. Of doing my own work. I know I'm scared of the always uncertain future. I know I don't want to feel alone, so sometimes I hold on too long. Or follow. Or try to figure everything out. And because I know this about myself, for once, I don't move. Instead, I plant my feet.
This is the latest post of a photo/story series I'm exploring for August, Awakening. To read all the posts in this series, click here.