Mother Nature has presented winter with her ultimatum and I am not immune to her will. Every living thing here is working overtime to rejuvenate and start anew. For me, that means a return to mulling and pondering. Whether I like it or not, my brain is defrosting and sprouting new leaves.

My brain works best when my body is moving, so I took a walk and I let my thoughts have free reign. Let’s see. I moved to France, gained the prerequisite 20-odd pounds, learned to pace myself at the bakery and squeezed myself back into all my pants. I wrote a book about my shrinking independence and expanding point of view. I made some friends, learned a load of French swear words (Merci Mademoiselle Elodie) and sampled almost every wine produced in this great nation. So now what?

One thing I’ve learned from this whole caper is that quitting your job and ditching your life is a breeze. The hard part is knowing what to do with yourself after the dust settles. I’m 18 months into France and almost 2 years into funemployment. And what a liberating, joyous, terrifying, irritating, peaceful, mind-numbingly boring and exciting time it has been. But when it comes to anticipating the times ahead, well, I find no answer. At the end of my walk I decided that I will now allow that search to slowly take up residence in the vast, empty, dusty, cobwebby corners of my mind.

But I also decided that whatever and wherever my future may be, today there is only this …

I’ll worry about the pits another day.