Moving towards the end of year means planning next year in various ways. At work it’s all about next financial year’s budget, at home it’s about holidays with Hubby and with a wide-flung family we’re already asking what continent best suits us all for Xmas 2016! Cyclical questions that inevitably come round with the year change. Part of the comforting rhythm of existence maybe. The answers differ slightly each year, depending on circumstances, but broadly you know what you’re facing.
Bigger life questions on the other hand are less comforting. In fact they’re downright discomforting. Though they too are starting to have a cyclical quality to them. Does the persistence of voices in my head mean anything?
I’m trying to hold these questions slightly at arm’s length for now, listening but not responding. Trying to savour the very edge of decision-making, the brink of choosing, of committing — but still with the freedom to step back if I need to. It’s a rather compelling vertigo.
But actually the freedom is illusory.
I am going to jump.
But I don’t need to jump today. I can afford to admire the view a little longer. I should look around, consider the horizons. Yet already I can imagine the freefall, how deliciously terrifying it will be and how it will change my view of the world. Just this act of imagining has already changed me. There really isn’t any stepping back from this edge. It’s really a question of when I’ll jump, not if. I’m kidding myself if I think otherwise.