The birds they sang at the break of day, "start again," I heard them say.

The difference that a day makes and the ability to start again and again.

Earlier this week people kind enough to subscribe were treated to my pain-fueled rant about my current frustrations about trying to recalibrate after a recent sickness, coupled with another flareup of chronic back pain. In those moments, it felt impossible to “come back” from what felt like another setback, another steady clip of momentum that felt dashed by life’s ability to switch things up.

This year is the first time I’ve really been serious about establishing more set routines, especially when it comes to my writing. While it’s been something that I’ve always considered my craft and passion, I’ve also taken for granted that it requires more steady discipline to be able to really thrive. And while I’m proud that I’m taking small steps to build larger habits, these habits still feel incredibly fragile and susceptible to the unexpected (and unavoidable) curveballs that life tends to throw.

But beyond the importance of discipline, I also see the need for flexibility, and grace. Change is constant, and every week, every day I wake up I faced a different set of circumstances and unexpected developments and abilities based on my personal capacity. This isn’t a bad thing, in fact, being able to make peace with this allows space for a lot more magic infused into the ordinariness of existing. But it also means having to reset expectations, recalibrate what “success” looks like, and being okay with my definition being different than the rest of the world’s.

It’s actually funny how much this time in my life reminds me of when I got divorced, how that one major life crack causes every other part of your existence to splinter, how clearly you can suddenly see the other aspects of your life, which still make sense and which don’t. These realizations come with a lot of heartache, and anger, and loneliness, but now, after 17 months those feelings have begun to quiet and I finally am excited for the possibilities that can exist in those empty spaces of my heart. That is such a welcome feeling, because there were certainly moments where I wasn’t sure it would happen.

I am allowing myself to feel optimistic about this autumn, giving myself time to explore the new parts of myself I’m unearthing while also challenging myself to keep pushing myself in healthy ways. I honestly have no idea where any of this will lead, but for once, I know I trust that I’ll end up where I’m supposed to.