🎃 You didn’t think I’d forget to stop by on Halloween, did you? The entirety of the story I came to tell is within my previous 12 messages, but I suppose one more tale couldn’t hurt. Imagine this. The tornado begins with the smallest shift in the wind. The fashion line begins with a single stitch. The message in a bottle begins with a single letter scrawled desperately on parchment. The field of weeds begins with the smallest seed blown over the fence or sown in defense. The homestretch begins with what looks identical to all the steps taken before. But it is not as it has been before. And it is not what it ever will be again. No. The moment is new and sovereign and special. Pregnant with possibility. The glass overflowing all at once after a maddeningly constant drip, drip, drip. Just like that shift in the wind, just like that stitch, just like that parchment and just like that seed, I am not yet what I one day will be. And also, I am. Because I will one day be it. So on this night of All Hallows Eve, as the veil between this life and the next is thinner than ever, I whisper to you: The finish line is closer than it may appear. Transformation is imminent. Hold on to your blind faith a moment longer, now. And remember that reputation is illusion, expectation the magician. I hope you get more treats than tricks this year in your orange, pumpkin shaped pails. You are all truly dear to me. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. And also…hello! 🎃

-submitted October 31, 2023