Day Off

Today, I only worked a half day and tomorrow I have off. Which I wasn't expecting- nobody I think was expecting this weekend off. And I'm not sure what to do with myself. I've been enjoying the immersion and the simplicity of not having to think about what I'm doing. I wake up, eat breakfast and read a chapter of my book, bundle up for an absolutely freezing scooter ride to work, defrost while drinking coffee in the office, and then work and work and work and work until I go home at night, shower, wash the sticky grape residue out of my hair and inspect my newly acquired bruises, eat, read, and then go to sleep. Perfect. That schedule allows me no time to consider my life, think about the fact that, on so many levels, I am deeply homesick, and entertain any number of the plethora of fears I have about going in the wrong direction, losing people who are important to me, not being capable of being who I want to be, living the kind of life I want to live. One thing that I was/am hoping for these next two months to do for me, is provide a little cocoon to heal- to completely occupy myself so that when I emerge again, maybe I'll wake finding myself a little more mended and a little less confused.

This cocoon was beautifully intact until it came to my off day-and-a-half. Having an off-day means having to decide what the hell to do with myself. And then expecting to enjoy myself all the while. Well right now in my vacuous life, that's a bit much.

So I went home, saturated my pillow with tears, and woke up half an hour later feeling empty, but very calm. And with a very clear and resolute feeling of who I am, where I am, and how I connect to the world. Everything has been very stripped bare for me in the last few months. Things are getting more and more simple as slowly, I am throwing out more and more. I've now thrown out so much that I am completely alone and naked in the world. But actually, that doesn't sound half bad. And everything that is important to me is in my blood. My family, very simple sensations, smells, associations. These are things that I can't get rid of even if I tried. And they form a pretty damn good base. From that base, it's okay to be devastastingly sad. And it's okay to be scared. Because I know that I have with me everything I need.