A new hope is rising.
In stark contrast to September’s inclement weather – taking on the air of an early English autumn, leaves turning, rain quickening, wind blowing – my mood has brightened. Several positive steps have been taken domestically to address numerous long-standing issues. And it's in taking these steps that there is now an emergence of a feeling of future possibilities.
It's an unfamiliar blend of feelings, and as ever I’m cautious about such things wherever they could be perceived as being largely positive in nature. As such, I'm expecting things to unravel, a pessimistic fear that I carry with me much of the time. It’s the hope that kills you, or so the saying goes, and I like living, mostly.
Over the years, owing to past incidents of trauma, I've formed a protective shell around my heart which is now set hard. I’ve thus become immune to emotional strikes at the heart, repelling all that try to enter, pushing back, refusing entry. In maintaining such preventative measures over a long period of time, my heart has become vacuous, an uninviting shell, blackened and dark.
I must brake the shell down, expose myself to the world and experience life, in all of its misery and bliss.