October 1st

October 1, 2026

October is my month. The good. The bad. The what the hell just happened?! More often than not, it arrives in October. More often than I'd like to admit, it arrives on my birthday. Not near, though that happens, too. Often enough that I get looks when filling out important details.

I always get excited for October. It is when the air begins to change, and I can unruffle my dusty feathers and preen again.

Usually.

This year, I find myself more hesitant than normal. I am trying to ignore that tingle because I'm not entirely sure it's real or manifested by circumstance.

Yesterday was such a day of high highs and low lows. I allowed myself to get my hopes up. I allowed myself to dream possibility as more than a far-off glimmer of imagination. I dreamed up all the ways life would change for the positive, and I focused a lot on being able to swim again.

I love swimming so much, though I've not had the pleasure to do so in several years. There is just something about the water that comforts me. It envelops. It lifts. It stirs to match movements. It allows me to sink and just be without the need to dive. And when I need the extra push, it resists and forces me to engage and feel every molecule of my being slicing through its hold until once more we tumble to surge forward again. There is a synchronicity.

I have not dove for even longer, but there is something about teetering up high, toes on the ledge, arms spreading wide in open abandonment, just knowing that as soon as you take the plunge, you will be caught. Everything will pause in that glorious brief second or so as you plummet in controlled flight, and then the water is there — opening and embracing. It quenches that need for absolute absorption and understanding.

I should be real with myself. I'm not sure I'd take the leap. Older bones. Softer flesh. It can be a long way down when unsure if you'll go splat or not. I thought about that a lot, too. Did I still yearn to dive, or did I find more contentment in the floating? My spirit, my brain, and my body are not always in agreement with yearnings and capabilities these days.

Yes. I allowed myself to give in to a dream yesterday. Briefly, ever so briefly, life stopped feeling like a climb.

I confess, there was a time when I enjoyed the weight. There was something about the persistence in trekking against the burdening force. Success was sweet as soon as my heel met destination. But that no longer is the case. Now it just feels like a hampering and painful slog when I would rather dance.

I am looking forward to next week. Today, our high is lower than our lows have been. Over twenty degrees lower than our highs have been. It won't stay, but the nights will be cooler. My return to nature is just around the corner, and I feel the thrill of fresh air and singing trees calling to me. I'm also excited because I know how impactful it will be on my weight loss journey. Hopefully, before the sun brightens, I will be back where I wish to be. I have hope in that. I have hope.

This morning, I have ignored all news. I slept in for an hour or so. I stretched. I calmed my mind and centered myself. Yes, I did briefly yearn for completion and I wondered if I would ever feel whole. But mostly... mostly I shook out the dust, reabsorbed my kinks, and I allowed my wings to spread back-crackingly wide to the new day.

It was but a moment, but sometimes that is all we need to refresh and travel onward.