There was this time in the early 90s when I felt the world was full of potential, especially in autumn when the air was so cool and crisp. That potential tends to hang at times now, lurking, almost beckoning - a promise, so right and fertile.
The idea of being a teacher in a small town with crisp autumn air, harvest festivals and apple cider -there are just so many images, smells and sounds that bring me back to that potential, to the person I was and to a promise but I haven't felt in a really long time.
It is so crazy how that promise of something new is so fleeting.
I have often wrote about the promise of something new as being the most wonderful gift any of us can have.
Driving to work this morning, it was drizzling; and it was cool outside. Somehow, the whisper of that promise seeped through the dampness; and I am pulled backward in time to a place where my heart and mind were full of potential and promise. Forcing all the current worries aside, I tried desperately to hang onto that feeling. As it retreated - quietly and quickly as it had entered - I ached. I felt a sadness for its absence.
Memories are like that...........they drift in and out at unexpected times.
Memories are like that...........they drift in and out at unexpected times.
Using this experience as a gauge of my "hope" level, I realize that I am pretty much out of hope. This does not mean that I don't feel the level rising, but t he last couple of years has drained my hope levels.
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