to everything, a season

 xxx 

it is the journey of my life to find the answer. to seek to understand, wrap my little mind around, the tangible concept. it's why i study with flash cards and spend way too long mulling over quiz options. why i drive myself crazy with my cheek against the pillow at midnight, a million questions and thoughts and scenarios spinning around behind my eyes until finally the momentum is fast enough that i get dizzy and fall asleep. it's a never ending cycle of wandering, wondering and feeling around in the dark for that one moment when everything aligns and a second of comprehension reveals itself.

but last night i sunk into the bath and reversed, for a moment, my thought flow. or rather, my thought rush.

maybe it's the questions. the asking. the holding your head up to the sky and sending a request up to God. the rising early and gathering the blankets around your feet, brewing that first cup of coffee just to get your head right. the attempt -- goodness knows-- the blessed, sacred attempt. the days you wake up and think today will not be like yesterday and by mid morning you realize, oh actually, today is just like yesterday. but you push forward until nightfall anyway. for the fringe of hope that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will be different. better. brighter. warmer.

and you keep searching and asking and yelling and rebelling.

praying and questioning and researching and reading.

and one day you understand you must be good enough to yourself to know when to stop. when to realize it's not the answer you need. not the new day or the different night. but just to lie in bed and hold you arms against your chest and breathe in the cotton and remind yourself that it's okay not to know. not now, not in a little while, maybe not ever. there's a reason for the gray. a season for the fog.