Time Travel

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Two years.

That’s the time that has taken to come back to my writing.

Two years of change, heartbreak, two apartments, and confusion.  A lot of confusion.

But… it’s ok.  I’ve cried all the tears I’ve had to cry.  I am letting go of expectations put on the wrong places. I am finding my way back home.  I am finding my way back to me.

It’s Sunday, and I am currently in apartment number 2, which is a tiny, cozy little thing that makes me really happy.  Grace VanderWaal is playing on the background, and burning incense flooded the atmosphere with a woody scent. I’ve been burning incense everyday for the past month.  I’ve been trying to add daily rituals that would keep me grounded, in an attempt to steady my mind.  It’s been restless.  My mind.  It’s been a steep learning curve, managing anxiety, for the fear of the future has been so tightly held.  Learning to let go.  Little by little.

“When the change is so much around you, finding a common ground in what we know for sure gives a little peace back.  So thankful for the peace received.  Little pockets of certainty.”

My yoga has kept me sane.  Although I have to admit that sticking to it has been hard.  A deep respect and conviction in the practice has done the trick.  Because there have been many times when I just haven’t had a clue to what to do next.  The mat is always there.  Always waiting.  Always receiving.

Just as the sea.  I have been going to the beach often, looking for the familiarity, the steadiness of the always.  When change is so much around you, finding a common ground in what we know for sure gives a little peace back.  So thankful for the peace received.  Little pockets of certainty.  “It’s ok.” it whispers. “It’s ok.”

Apologies if I don’t make sense.  This is my honest attempt at coming back to this space.  To write a little, or a lot.  We shall see.

Thank you…

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