It's been 10 days.
It's 11:30 at night.
Sometimes I don't truly know what causes the lag between writing here when there are times where it flows effortlessly day to day. Lately I have been writing for other reasons. This in combination with a 'flu' that just won't go away has lead me away from writing here.
Lots has been going on though. I have felt a little overwhelmed with what I have taken on in my life, a sure sign that I needed a challenge. I have found my self out of balance as a result and am now patiently (ok I am never really patient) tipping the scales to a more even space. To be fair though I have been reading more than usual and that has lit me up! I am not sure where or why it comes to me, it just does.
Along those and other scattered brain waves, I had a moment today. A profoundly lonely snippet of time that was altogether nostalgic and beautiful in it's sudden, unquestionable, perhaps unfounded sadness. I was driving home across the bridge. Winter being in full swing here in Vancouver I compensated by turning the heat way up. Though not sock foot, nor driving stick on the highway, I was transported back in time to when I was 17. I will never forget that feeling of being utterly alone and simultaneously comfortable in my own skin. It happens so rarely I thought I might not recognize it. This time was no different. Sitting waiting for a light to change I was in my own world of warmth and music and peace as the chaos of Vancouverites driving in snow/rain waged outside. It brought a tear to my eye to think about how everything can change, place, time, a decade of experience and yet all at once nothing has happened. I was still that little girl in her untucked uniform driving home, back to the city.
My life currently feels a little untucked. It is my nature to revert to doing what must be done to get by when I feel overwhelmed. My relationships suffer at the force of trying to do everything and be exceptional at it. Another four months has past or is fast approaching and I feel my bones tugging at sinew. Pressing for change. Eager to move forward. I must fight it, or learn from it. I am not sure it will ever get easier, this migratory pull away from what is safe and comfortable into the unknown. I attribute it to the ever opposing lust for adventure and growth and the need to cling to what is dear. Always the fear I could lose it all if I stretch too far away. Who knows. It is almost spring and the prairie soul in me may just be gearing up for fertile soils and cerulean skies.
It's 11:30 at night.
Sometimes I don't truly know what causes the lag between writing here when there are times where it flows effortlessly day to day. Lately I have been writing for other reasons. This in combination with a 'flu' that just won't go away has lead me away from writing here.
Lots has been going on though. I have felt a little overwhelmed with what I have taken on in my life, a sure sign that I needed a challenge. I have found my self out of balance as a result and am now patiently (ok I am never really patient) tipping the scales to a more even space. To be fair though I have been reading more than usual and that has lit me up! I am not sure where or why it comes to me, it just does.
Along those and other scattered brain waves, I had a moment today. A profoundly lonely snippet of time that was altogether nostalgic and beautiful in it's sudden, unquestionable, perhaps unfounded sadness. I was driving home across the bridge. Winter being in full swing here in Vancouver I compensated by turning the heat way up. Though not sock foot, nor driving stick on the highway, I was transported back in time to when I was 17. I will never forget that feeling of being utterly alone and simultaneously comfortable in my own skin. It happens so rarely I thought I might not recognize it. This time was no different. Sitting waiting for a light to change I was in my own world of warmth and music and peace as the chaos of Vancouverites driving in snow/rain waged outside. It brought a tear to my eye to think about how everything can change, place, time, a decade of experience and yet all at once nothing has happened. I was still that little girl in her untucked uniform driving home, back to the city.
My life currently feels a little untucked. It is my nature to revert to doing what must be done to get by when I feel overwhelmed. My relationships suffer at the force of trying to do everything and be exceptional at it. Another four months has past or is fast approaching and I feel my bones tugging at sinew. Pressing for change. Eager to move forward. I must fight it, or learn from it. I am not sure it will ever get easier, this migratory pull away from what is safe and comfortable into the unknown. I attribute it to the ever opposing lust for adventure and growth and the need to cling to what is dear. Always the fear I could lose it all if I stretch too far away. Who knows. It is almost spring and the prairie soul in me may just be gearing up for fertile soils and cerulean skies.
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