Move

The moving truck expands into the universe, grows by the cubic foot into an unwieldy caravan across the desert. Nothing goes according to plan, but since that's what you expected, it suits your plan nicely. You didn't know you would start the year in communion with the long-haul drivers of the right lane, but we are not always masters of our fate, and sometimes it is best to roll with the punches you've been dealt. 

As the palm trees of southern California give way to sprawling deserts and climbing canyons, a peace begins to settle in your foot on the gas, your elbow in the window. The truck hems and haws through the mountain pass, but makes it to the top, rewarded with its blankets of stars, its slow roll into the valley village. 

What do you want your year to look like? What do you want your world to look like? 

We can't control everything. You do not build the mountain. 

You only try to make it across.