Whenever it feels like a fresh start is on the horizon, I can’t help but be reminded of my friend Diane’s email signature. Each message concludes with “every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”

Most people probably only remember this as a line in Semisonic’s “Closing Time.” But its origins are a little older. Roman philosopher Seneca was first credited with the quote in the mid-1st century. Still, the timelessness of the sentiment rings just as true today.

I’ve spent the last decade flying high, scraping the bottom, or generally anticipating what grand inspiration is waiting to send lightning bolts to a barren mental field. It’s an odd life and not one that I would readily recommend, but each time the door handles lock and the gates slam shut, a tiny string attached to a rising balloon seems to find my fingers. I’m set back to start with renewed energy and open eyes.

Once again, I stand at the precipice. Looking out at a vast expanse of maybes, I’m invigorated by potential and promise, hope and heartbreak. I never thought I would spend so much time on the tightrope, but I’m learning to love walking on the wire. My dough doesn’t fit inside the cookie-cutter mold and dancing to a different drum was inevitable, no matter how much I tried to conform.

So, with some unique fuel sources and a universal pinch on the cheeks for good luck, I’m strapped in for the rocket ride. The stationary bike is off its trainers and there’s finally some rubber on the road. Whether or not I put any miles on the odometer is left to be determined. But I’m confident the sun will still shine on planted seeds, regardless of the rain.