Notes from October.

October has been a blur. It’s been full, in a bit of a nought-to-sixty in the blink of an eye way. Too much for my brain to process, never mind sum up in coherent words.

This change of speed feels alien, like that reoccurring panic dream I always had of finding myself behind the wheel of a car hurtling along residential streets with no brakes. This is usually my favourite time of year and I feel like I’ve missed it on my way through. The riot of colours, the crispness of the air, the warmth of early golden hour.

The evenings are drawing in, and yet I feel like I’m in a season of expansion. The contrast of it stares at me, eyes lingering longer than is polite, making me squirm. I’m watching the season shift through the window, wanting to curl up inside myself. To stay safe, stay warm… to stay comfortable.

Comfort. That’s the real challenge, isn’t it?

It’s the challenge to getting outside at this time of year. Embracing the wind and rain in your eyes instead of staying curled up on the couch. Even though the little you see through squinted eyes and damp skin makes you feel alive.

But so often it’s the challenge to doing anything new, too. To wanting to learn, wanting to grow. Why do I so often allow the sweaty palms and racing heart to be a barrier, and not an invitation?

After all, isn’t it those places that resist it the most that are where we need to feel the stretch?