I feel lost again, like a leaf that had been torn from a tree. Now that I’m not attached to something large and substantial and rooted, I’m at the mercy of the wind and I feel insecure and scared as I flip and fall and rise arbitrarily. The last time I’d felt this way (10 months ago) and described the blown leaf sensation to someone, he told me, “Or you can choose not to be a leaf. You can be an acorn or a seed, and settle down anywhere you want and grow into your own tree.”
Tonight, those clever words of advice give me little comfort as I grit my teeth against the dread of this weekend.