T his past weekend I was driving to meet some friends. It was early and the air was crisp. The weatherman had warned of freezing fog, but the reality was there was decent visibility and the roads were dry and clear. I was able to admire the way it lifted off the road, and danced just above the ground over the barren farmland.

The drive is an easy one, and I was able to absorb the beauty. The further I drove, it became crystal clear that I was so enchanted by the fog, because it represented more to me than light fluffy clouds extending their reach toward earth. When people go through something troublesome or traumatic in life...and then find their way back to some sort of normal, you hear the term "coming out of the fog."

Several years ago now, I decided to return to college to finish my degree. It hadn't been an easy choice to make, but one I felt I needed to do. It had been a promise I'd made to myself when I married and began a family while I was still young that someday I would come back and finish. Another event had crystallized that notion that tomorrow is never promised and I felt the urgent need to act.

At the time I had been publishing books for several years. I stupidly thought I could continue that work, my day job, and a full load at school. I quickly learned that wasn't going to be achievable and I put publishing on the shelf.

Of course, just a year in, Covid 19 hit. My last semester and a half became a digital experience. Something I found harder than the in person classes. As communities retreated indoors, I found myself crawling inside myself. The things I enjoyed doing seemed out of reach. The one place I found solace—my writing—felt like a stranger.

I know this isn't a new story. I know I'm not the only one who became depressed. I feel blessed I didn't lose as much as others did.

But as I started to wake up from the experience—when I was able to get back to things I enjoy—I began to understand that phrase. I truly felt pieces of my spirit waking up. My personality began to brighten.

I remember one moment in particular, not the circumstances but the realization. I remember saying it out loud. "I feel more like me than I've felt in a long, long time."

And that is what was going through my head as I drove down the highway and saw the fog in the distance. I walked through the fog and I came out on the other side.

I've awakened.

Picture to the right was from September 2023 at a writer's retreat I attended. Above photo is a stock image.