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It’s nearly autumn.

It doesn’t feel like it today, too hot. If it’s going to be autumn, I want it to feel like autumn. I want to wear my snuggly sweaters and sip apple cider by the fire. I want it to be here. I don’t want it to be almost here. I want it now.

And that sums up how I feel about change.

It’s not the change itself that’s hard—it’s the in between. It’s the gloaming: that time after sunset but before dark. I want to make it change quickly. I want to be one or the other.

The in-between is hard; the in-between is important.

The in-between is where we learn the gracious painful art of patience.

The in-between is what reveals our character.

The in-between is what peels us away and reveals those indestructible parts of us.

And the last thing (though I didn’t give you 101) I know about change besides the fact that it seems to happen either too fast or too slow for my taste is that the only thing we can truly change is ourselves.

“We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers—but never blame yourself. It’s never your fault. But it’s always your fault, because if you wanted to change you’re the one who has got to change.” ~ Katharine Hepburn

Of all the things that might be true about change this one is the best. This is the keeper.

The only person who can fix you, is you: