Limbo

I’ve been feeling neither here nor there for a while, and I’ve found the crux, weeks out from leaving the country indefinitely. I’m tipping my life on its head, and there’s a bunch of stuff falling out.

Stuff I’m holding up and scrutinising — in late night darkness, or 5am light encountered too early. Not the time to see clearly.

But perhaps even in the broad light of a sunny April day, it won’t be any clearer. My lesson is to trust much deeper in the timing and unfolding of my days, reminding myself that the panic and near-constant questioning are part of it.

This limbo has laid me bare too. I feel watched, questioned, scrutinised myself. But others are a mirror of ourselves, so this pulling apart of self and choices is really owned and orchestrated by me.

This 360 degree turn, this flip, is to be a turn inwards.

Pay attention to what you’re putting out to others, and what you perceive and feel coming back from them. They are a reflection of where you need to focus your attention internally.

“The cosmos will always mirror back to us whatever your inner state is. The greater the love we discover in ourselves, the greater the love will reflect back to us in the environment through others.” – Deepak Chopra.

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Wave

Sometimes I wonder if you feel it the same way I do, the ebb and flow, the fury and the feign.

Are you as small as I am, clinging to that tidal wave?

Or do you burst at the seams, shot across that room in a million tiny particles?

Is it all so insatiable to you, as it is to me?

Slowest

You were the slow drip

Entering my veins

I let you wash through me, stain me with a new colour

Lines at my navel, to my chest, approaching my lips

A ravishing feast we were – to delight in and devour

One morsel at a time

No need to hurry, we thought

But now we are the hourglass stuck, dreary sands held fast

Now we beg for spare change

For a taste from the plate of the knowing and divine

Wild

The truth is I really like being the odd one out, in a place where I know no one.

I feel most alive when I’m in the corner of a cafe half-way round the world, trying to order a coffee as those around me go about their daily routines. I love meeting strangers in happenstance, and falling into deep conversations about all that brought us there. I’m most myself when I’m wandering the backstreets of small Euro-towns or Asian alleys, overhearing the murmer of families and friends sharing stories.

Perhaps it’s quite romanticised, but I’m filled with a burning curiosity, a desire to soak it all up.

Map of me

Artist: @little.tattoos

I’m far from aimless, but you’re far away
And it leaves me incomplete

I’m unsettled, out of body
And it’s not just you, it’s me
I’m on a jagged track in a home that’s not my own

It took years to read between the lines
But you draw them like a map

And still I need directions,
Or I’m as good as lost

How long is the thread between us?
How many wires must we cross?