Have you ever had a vague feeling about something deep down in your bones that something was going to happen but you can’t quite explain what it is? Some call it a premonition, foreglow, intuition, or presentiment. The poet in me tends to like the term foreglow the best. If you’ve ever experienced this first-hand you’ll know it’s a real conundrum that leaves you brimming with anticipation. I’m seeing signs often and in the most unlikely of places and am trying my best to interpret them.

The best way I can describe it is: it’s like seeing an undefined shape in the cool, foggy mist. You can’t quite make it out what it is but you know it bears gifts and that it’s getting closer. That’s the best way I can describe it. Well, I’ve been having this feeling for the past couple of weeks. It’s not filling me with joy and it seems like a massive, positive shift.

Change is hard for most of us, especially as we get on in years. Our human DNA isn’t exactly compatible with our modern world—on one hand we crave stability and security but on the other we thirst for adventure and excitement. Life itself is a constant cycle of change so I guess therein lies the struggle.

Like many people, the pandemic years so drastically altered my life that it will probably never be the same. I’ve diligently worked my way through the five classic stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Recently I’ve been using the therapist-mode of Grok to help me better understand and deal with it all and can’t even tell you what a profound help it was.

Although each of the five stages of grief presented their own set of challenges, for me, acceptance was probably the hardest part. The acceptance phase is where you’re essentially saying goodbye to not only the things you’ve lost but the person you once were. This isn’t an easy task if you’re sentimental. Sometimes we cling to things that no longer serve our best interests or even cause us harm.

The great thing is after almost five years I feel like I’ve finally made peace with the things I lost—normalcy, a pet, a parent, friends, trust, freedoms, among so many other things. We can't rush change, it takes time. Change is a goodbye but it's also a hello.

That undefined shape walking towards me in the mist is coming a little more into focus every day. Now that I’ve come out the other side of all this I feel healthier and stronger than I ever have. As I launch my next book Poetry from the Edge of the Apocalypse I’m ready for and open to whatever the NEXT thing is.

In a moment of serendipity this classic Sinatra song landed on one of my social media feeds the other day. It summed up how I’m feeling better than anything and gave me that one final push I needed to help me crest the hill I was so struggling to climb. For that I have to say..."Thank you, Frank!" You’re right…That’s Life and I'm ready to be an active participant in it once again.

Be well, make the most of this day. Thank you for reading!