21 May 2014
It has been a day to consider excess and the quantity of things. I’m trying to finish reading some books (I owe you my Iona book list by the way… I’ll add it in my letter tomorrow), as well as sort through papers, letters, write letters, print pictures, pack for our US trip. All these things.
At the same time, it has been a day to consider lack: I’m starting a new fitness ritual with a jogging club, and I’m trying to be very mindful of moving into it slowly, as well as keeping it up while I’m away.
It’s funny to be in the middle of things like this, between comings and goings, but I think I’m used to it. I’ve been thinking about all of my moves today, all the places I have come to and gone from. And also thinking that this is where all the things have come from, the safe comforts to hold onto, the books and blankets and clothes that fit me when nothing else in the world will. I’m also wondering if this is where the lack came from: the losing a sense of my own body, my physical existence, when I moved so fluidly through the world. Anchorless.
I feel much more present in recent years than I ever remember being. Not just physically, not just mentally, but in the alchemy of where all those aspects collide. I keep coming back to this, even when the transitions still feel strange and haunting. And even when I see where the holes still exist. I wrote a letter today that ended: it requires courage to take things apart thread by thread. To learn to say no. To know that I am more than the sum of my past habits.
I really missed you.
P.S. We’ll be in the US until the 21st of June (leaving on Saturday). But let’s be honest — it’s not anything to be considered remote. I’ll definitely still be here. I’m back now, back to our letters. Thanks for waiting for me.