The yearly ritual.

This happens every year. When August becomes September, I get all itchy inside. I don't know if it's some kind of subconscious developed response to the "-ber" months, or an innate, animal sense of the Earth's coming slumber. But here I am again, another year, another blog. Every year at this time, for the past 5 or 6, I've started a new blog. I feel my brain, spirit, body filling up with this sense of importance...something big is about to happen. I'm going to change, I'm going to shed my skin or spread my wings or shine my light, and I NEED to write about it. I just need to write. So I start up a blog or journal, write a few entries about how massive and relevant everything is, usually pretty-sounding but cryptic and rambling, and then October becomes November and the sense of impending greatness slips away beneath the gray cover of wintry malaise and apathy. I hope this year is different. I'm hoping this time I can stick with it. This time, I KNOW something big is coming. It's huge, life-altering, mind-blowing, universe-expanding...and it's wiggling away in my womb as I type.