Have you ever moved, with all your belongings, to another apartment? Well, can you at least imagine? Look around, all of your things-clothes, books, those creams, electronics, the stationary, stuff on the wall, toys, memorabilia. Imagine the boxes, stalking items, wrapping delicates in bubble wrap & hoping that it survives the transportation, keeping things that you need to carry along, and labeling the boxes. There is so much, where do you even start?
Writing this post kind of feels like that. I went through so much this month- doing cartwheels on a beach, mummy’s health constantly deteriorating, 2 mountain trips, meeting a poet in the clouds, work, my mental health, leaving R support-less, papa, the need for a home, for belonging, keeping friends, old & new, crying in the embrace of strangers, the care-giving, oh the caregiving! I have wanted to crumble & die, I have wanted to jump for joy. I learned good & bad things, one of which was that empathy without a way to help can cause empathy distress. I have been trying to find hospitals, houses, and help for people & me.
I wrote through it, in my black&yellow journal, stealing time & energy from this ever-demanding life. I thought I won’t share any of it this time, to save energy. But I wonder, what happens to something you write & don’t share? I’d been reading Daddy Long Legs, watching Hanna Gatsby, over & over, borrowing strength. They lead me to believe that what is written & unshared is a seed that never gets planted. “What I would have done to have heard a story like mine. Not for blame. Not for reputation, not for money, not for power. But to feel less alone. To feel connected.”
So, here I am, staring at my life, wondering which piece to pack first. I am using the only lesson I learned by shifting houses every year for the last 8 years, start anywhere, start here, and remember to eat & play music to keep you sane. Pack the pens first or the underwear. Start, here, right at the end, in bed, sick with cold & fever, reading a book, binging a tv show, drinking my 60th cup of tea, really uncertain of things & tired. But happy and full of thoughts, listening to Penguin Cafe Orchestra “cutting branches for a temporary shelter”