I’m in an odd headspace today, and I feel the effects of
mild nazar type situations (I looked it up and IT’S THE FRIKKING MERCURY RETROGRADE) may be at play. After the giddy laughter and intense fits of conversation of last night, this was perhaps the inevitable low after the high. Because I know this is not normal. It’s very unlike me to wake up confused, a bit dazed and like someone has switched on auto-pilot when I wasn’t looking. Good thing, I’ve resumed exercising in earnest this week, because there’s literally nothing a good heavy dose of endorphins cannot kick out of your system. Without it I’d be a mild kind of basket case, given the way this month has been – ever so subtly mindfucking.
It’s no fun going about my daily routine like a zombie, with this palpable befuddlement creeping over me slowly. So I decided to just get down to work, of which I have plenty that can benefit from aforementioned auto-pilot state. I’m still not actively seeking fresh for for this year, because my gut feeling is I need to take it slow and recoup. But I’m struggling just a little bit with letting things go and taking it easy.
What I really wanted to do was sit quietly with this knot of thoughts. Peel away at it, tenderly. Slowly. Undo every little twist, iron out the turns, and then gently make a braid of them and wrap myself up with it. I’ve never wanted to figure my meandering thoughts more. And I feel a constant urgency to figure it out now. Some part of me knows I need to relax, breathe let it go so it can come back. But this business of letting it go, and going with the flow is harder than I know. And the waiting game, it was never for me.
What I’m feeling is an odd combination of restlessness, that would usually put the wheels on my heels, but this time, is crippling me to a state of near-immobility. Maybe this is going to be the big, hard lesson for the months to come.
Anyway, a couple of hours later, a good load of work done, I was still not feeling any more settled. I was saved by the bell that came in the form a disgustingly, deliciously long telephone conversation with J. Just the kind of intervention that comes unannounced, but somehow has all the very things you need – the comfort of familiarity, the collective wisdom of experiences, that special kind of reassurance that only girlfriends can bring. Talking to J this morning was mind-altering, in a good way and I ended the marathon call with a sense of solace that maybe this is not all for naught. A promise to kick my ass every time I look like I am not letting go enough, somehow made me feel better.
I am exceedingly grateful for this new brood of friends I am now surrounded by. Open channels of communication, so much solidarity, freedom to talk about everything – whether it’s about what I’m going through, my writing, work woes and joys alike, fears and sorrows, highs and lows – and it is so impossibly liberating to know it is always close at hand even though we are not all in the same location.
I have spent the last many years stripping my circle down, ridding it of drama and negativity of all kinds, and while the process wasn’t entirely pleasant, easy or quick to pass, I realise I am probably reaping the fruits of it now. For every negative relationship I have shut out from my life, I feel I am receiving positivity, love and encouragement in large double doses. My mother always said every relationship, every development or situation (she didn’t use these exact words, I am paraphrasing a lifetime of people-wisdom she has given me) is a chance to understand not just something about the person you’re dealing with, but yourself. And today, I see what that means.
Choosing your friends, is an honour and a privilege. It is an exercise in self-love and self-preservation. Some people get that, some don’t – and there is absolutely nothing you can do to change that. All you can do is hang on to those precious few who come to stay, and let go of the rest.
I am suddenly hyper aware of signs that pop out of nowhere, affirming thoughts I have been sifting through. Letting go has been playing on my mind heavily for a few weeks now, and the very words keep popping up at me. On facebook, in the book I’m reading, in conversations with people, on random advertisements when I’m driving around town, and today there was this.
I hate the show, was never a fan. I despise Salim-Suleiman with a vengeance, but something about the song is sticky.
I have always said I am a work in progress, and my idea of growing and settling down has oddly never been about being rooted to one thing and place. I am inherently restless, and the hugsband is always equal parts amazed and exasperated at how I am always seeking more. So this is not a new revelation: I am always moving, seeking, finding, never settling. But my gosh, I have never felt these feelings with so much intensity. I am a work in progress has never felt truer.