Autumn has come.  It is in the late rising sun, the cool crisp mornings, the golden falling leaves.  I feel it in the ache of my bones.  But I am finally here, tap, tapping at my keyboard.  It has been a long time since I’ve felt the rhythm returning to my fingers.

It hasn’t been easy, this waiting.  It has been full of un- ease and dis-ease.  Nothing stops except the flow of my words.  Life goes on, as the cliche goes.   But in the process, I have seen and learned the bare bones of life, of what is of the utmost importance.  It is not the money.  It is not the job.  It is not what people’s opinion of me.  It’s none of those things and yet I cannot articulate it in written words.  Yet I know and feel it in my marrow.

Perhaps it is this very moment that I’ve been waiting for, this moment of clarity.  I have been waiting for myself, to steal the words from Alice Walker, who wrote We Are the Ones We’ve Been Waiting For.  It is a book everyone should read.  Forever and a day, I have not thought of myself mattering.  Forever and a day, my identity is as a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, a nurse, and no more.

The waiting is over.  I have arrived unto myself.  And it is good.  It is worth it.  I am worth it.