Back in 2018 in the prologue of this pursuit of greater health, I wrote the following:

A wave of emotions ran over me...a deep hurt and a sense of loss of all the people, places, and events that were once so intrinsic to my life—all of that is gone or at the very least, simply out of reach. That which seems familiar and recent is the same that I realize happened years ago.

Is this Vedder's Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town? Do "hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away?"

I head out to claim that which was lost. I forge deeply...and refuse to punt into passivity. I leave the freezing of fears and the felicity of foods and head out to the les mauvaises terres à traverser tonight. I cleave the machination mooring and claim the imagination emancipation. I reject the parameters, the purposes, and the purports of others while denying within me the Scarecrow, the Tinman, and the Cowardly Lion animatronics clanking in their uncanny valley.

An empty expanse lays out before me. The last embers of the day shirk into the horizon. The night awaits...

The thick with sweat summer breeze rolls away from the landscape on its drive down to the coast. In the thunderous applause of leaves, the forest stirs in excitement of autumn's approach. My heart soars in its own anticipation of the things to come. My movements are deft; my actions play out exactly as my preparation has plotted out. I have evolved into what years of planning and investment have contributed into my construction. The dream is no more; it has become reality.

Of course, I write today from a place that works toward that very moment later this year. Unlike past years, there's no gap in my vision; no break from my passion. I long for it...it is a deep thirst to reach for that moment in time.

I'm reminded by this candle next to my keyboard. Until now, I've elected not to burn it—wasn't appropriate...until now: Fall Festival. Oh, Across the Stars! When shall I find that moment?