At the end of a long struggle

is a grateful but unsettling pause.

A quick celebration and deep sigh.

Then discombobulation

and a reorienting.

I am in that awkward pause now.

That precarious place on the other side of a finish line.

There is relief, but also emptiness.

There should be rest and relief,

but striving became a habit.

Now what?

What will be on the other side of the “if only”?

Striving is “aliving.”

What will I do when all that drive stops?

Do we ever really arrive?

Part of me hopes not.

FLOW

GO BLUE…Now what?