© Lamentables, 2009.
I described my game plan. It’s even better this year. It starts even earlier. I confessed how terrified I am of the approaching winter. How confident I was last year only to be struck down at the end of January and not able to gain traction again until the beginning of June.
“It hasn’t been that bad in years, man. I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it out.”
We talked about what’s different this year. How it’s not like we’re just repeating the same cycles over and over. We’re growing. We’re new. Spiraling upward constantly. We do not line up at the same startline every season. We’ve never been here before.
He told me that he remembers. That he was there with me the whole time, but it never looked the same to him. Outside. Removed. Watching. “It’s like a seed in the cold, wet ground. A million things happening that we can’t see.” Then, seemingly overnight, sprouts. Tiny roots and tiny green leaves trusting that they know exactly what to do. “You weren’t shut down. You were just in germination.”
