“…I see myself at crossroads in my life, mapless, lacking bits of knowledge – then, the Moon breaks through, lights up the path before me…” –John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

This time of year is always a restless one for me. Here in Georgia, December can careen wildly from hot to cold, from one extreme to the other. It is not-quite-Christmas, and not-quite-winter. But the autumn (always my season of possibility) has departed, and I find myself in waiting mode. The problem is, I have no idea what I’m waiting for.

It’s a little different this year, though. If I were kind to myself, I would say that I find myself “at a crossroads.” The more honest version, I believe, is “I am stuck.” For every push, there is a pulling back. For every inclination, there is a reason not to, so, instead of doing something–anything–I end up screwing around and wasting time.

I am in between. In between careers. In between stages of my life (I still feel like a little kid most of the time. Sometimes it shocks me–it’s a wonderful shock, but still a shock–that I have a two-year-old who is totally dependent on me. It’s hard to reconcile the need to be a strong, free, independent woman with the overwhelming need to completely shelter and protect my Bear, and to facilitate his learning and to spend-every-second-possible-with-him-because-these-moments-will-never-come-around-again. Oy.). In between seasons. In between children, perhaps? In between my past life of being stupid and growing up, and my life-to-come, in which logic would dictate that I will live as though I learned some lessons from…being stupid and growing up.

So, so many in-betweens.

I just feel in my bones that the time is fast approaching when I’m going to have to jump, that a sea-change is about to overtake me, and I can either falter or I can figure out how to embrace it, how to direct it to the place I want it to go. To the place where I end up, looking around myself with fresh eyes, and say, “Oh, yes. This is it.”