Between a Pebble and a Hard Place

Balancing act. Dreams versus reality; known unknowns and unknown unknowns holding sway against known knowns; a leap of faith grounded with neither pole to vault nor big cushiony mattress to land on. The pebble, symbolic, found on a beach on Harris, I've half a mind to stick some string through that weird natural hole and hang it round my neck. But would that be an even more constant reminder? Plenty of words, no actions, and I've no idea how to bump start. Ponder. Mull. Waiting not so much for the tipping as the breaking point. By which time I may have the pole, and while the cushiony mattress might be missing I could give it a whirl with a catcher's mitt. Courage mon brave, et persistence. I need a plan to come together.

Meanwhile, shifting signs in bike lanes.