Cusp.

I love that word. It’s better than edge or ledge or rim or brim. Well, better for what it is.

Maybe the best of times and worst of times isn’t so much cusp. Maybe it’s more being completely steeped in something, feeling it all. Greater joy, greater sadness. Greater humanity.

But cusp is coming to mind. Being on the cusp. Almost ready to burst over into that next space, but still tucked back in the fold of the last space.

I don’t know. I guess last year. It was the absolute best year yet. But it sucked too. It was about freedom and liberation. I walked lighter than ever before. Like Legolas, on top of the snow. Only it wasn’t snow, wasn’t white, freshly fallen and clean. It was muck. It was the gunk that wanted to stain me forever. Wanted to suck me back in. And sometimes it did. But in general, I walked over it, on it, through it. I got through it. I made it to the other side.

The time has come to say farewell to a limiting aspect of your life.

I said farewell to three. But I also said farewell to the comfort I had there. I let go of the home I’d built in five years, in 28 years.

It was new and exciting, and also scary and uncertain.

Worst of times for my bank account and my health over longest period of time.