I am, at this hour, reminded of an old song about leaving on a jet plane.
I remember the lyrics had said something about:
all their “bags being packed” and they were “ready to go.”
For me, I am filled with anxiety though.
Just to be flying the first time since my surgery,
What I feel is not a fear, but it’s certainly an insecurity.
Wondering how I will do, and what I may need.
There is also a sense of uncertainty, in going to a place that is new for me.
Not knowing for sure anything that I’ll see, all of it then is a mystery.
Somehow writing and running have been my escapes,
and then ’twas just writing, but I’m getting back me.
Hoping soon that my running will be right back on track.
Ahh, to have even a trace of the prior me.