I’m back home. Still trying to get settled, still adjusting to the slightly colder weather and gloomier sky. Still adjusting to the time difference. Still adjusting, always, to being alive. And I can’t believe it’s almost the middle of March, already! Or that, next month (April 29 🥲) I turn 34! Getting older is wild. It’s also a gift and a privilege, which I become more acutely aware of as I age, but I don’t know, being alive is just a very trippy experience and sometimes I have to really step out of myself in order to absorb that I, we, are actually having this experience.
I think I’m trying to talk about being more present.
The way my memory is set up, I don’t actually remember that much of my life after a year or two (which is why try to record/keep anything), so being truly present, I’m realizing, is the only way to do this. I can’t be locked up in a room inside my head all the time, peering out of dusty windows with broken shutters, wondering why I can’t understand anyone and they can’t understand me.