Ah, September. It's the month we go back to school here in California, but it's also the month of the baseball pennant races. It's the end of summer, but the best weather of the year in the North Bay is just around the next bend in the calendar. September might not be July, but at least it's not February.
I like these times of transition, because they force me to think a little more deeply about what I'm doing with my life. Or maybe they don't "force" me to do it, but it seems to be something I do at certain times of year. New Year's, the opening of spring training, my birthday, the holidays. The start and end of summer are like that, too. That's because summer is the time of year I embrace. I love to see it get here and I hate to see it go.
Are some changes due? Definitely. I'd like to make this the magic moment when I stop complaining about not getting things done and start actually doing them. I'd like to shed all my excuses like so many dry leaves, and get on with the things I really need to do. Pain? What pain? And who needs sleep anyway? Dwelling on it doesn't help, that's for sure.
Will I be able to make resolutions and put them into effect? Probably not. Not so much, anyway. But the intent is half the battle, and the change in seasons gives me a reason to make an effort. Plus, I'm always hopeful, even in the dreariest hours of winter. The darkest clouds are sometimes the most beautiful. I won't let the accumulated failures keep me from reaching out for the next brass ring that comes along.