But.

Lately my focus is shifting onto a more precise trail-head up my mountaintop of life. I've been walking around in the forest for a while, trying new things out, studying flora and fauna and rocks, but now I have a direction. And I am extremely thrilled.
I'll be honest, there is a huge wall in my way, and I'm not a very good climber. I don't like heights. But.
"But" is the most lovely and bitter word in my life right now.
But I'm climbing it anyway. Because I realized that I brought a backpack full of gear with me. I forgot about it at the beginning of my journey, but I rediscovered it when I bent down to take a closer look at some river stones.
So, here I am. A stone wall, sheer rock face in front of my own face. Excited, trembling hands. Strong legs and broad shoulders. Hope, lots of hope. And a trail.

I woke up this morning and laid in bed, not wanting to get up to go to Physics class even though I love Physics class, and I said under my breath,
New morning. This is a new morning. And you know where you're going. But.
I left the "but" there to be just a little bit mysterious and romantic and because it really did belong there. Because I do know where I'm going. Sometimes I just don't know how I'm getting there.
And that chalk. Don't climbers put white chalk on their hands? I think so. I think I like that.
But I have to find some first.

These days I feel like my life is a Leo Lionni book.