fall is such a clever name for a season

I want to bungee jump. I joke that if I do, I will be like Alicia Silverstone in the Aerosmith 'Cryin' video and flip the bird. In reality, I'll probably be too terrified to do anything and just be concentrating on not barfing (which by the way, experience has shown me is not possible, even the utmost concentration has not prevented throwing up when I wanted it to but that's a whole different blog). I want be suspended between where I was and where I'm going for a few seconds of time to just...well, fall. In the metaphorical sense, that is how I feel now. Suspended in the air, seeing where I'm headed but haven't all the way left where I've been. And it's scary and exciting and can't quite catch my breath or focus on what lies before me.

Maybe it's August's clock ticking at me. For years and years, August signified the beginning of a new year. It was the beginning of a new grade, new classes, one step closer to where I was headed. So maybe it's not such a stretch that right around this time I feel both the beginning and the end of something new. Just like teachers, maybe I measure my year by the school calendar. Or maybe it's that I consider my September birthday my 'new year' versus the actual January 1st date and I ask myself, what did I learn in the past year? What do I vow to do different when I'm another year older? What's gonna change? All the questions start forming and floating right around this period of time, for whatever reason, my mind swirls with them.

And yet, I'm a walking contradiction because at the same time my mind is suspended because I'm still in summer mode. I still want to play and live in the moment and not plan and just do. I want to not be so serious or contemplative (although my neurotic mind never quite lets that happen). I want to race ahead to all the fun I know that's in store for me but can't quite let go of things that might have happened before that I have to think about. Past is just the past, but it's not like it never happened. It's there. To just discard it, to pack it away with my swimsuit and sunscreen until next year just isn't how it works.

And it's a little like free falling and being stuck at the same time.

My mind is in ten different places while I'm being propelled forward. I'm enjoying every minute, but still expecting, just not sure when, that I'm going to be yanked back to the past, to learn something else or tie up loose ends or go back for someone or something that wasn't meant to be left behind. There's no way to try to figure out when it's gonna happen.

Just gotta close my eyes, feel the proverbial wind on my face, fall...and wait...