I learn by going where I have to go.
~ Theodore Roethke
Another hot day in an atypical string of consecutively hot days. Three of us sat like stuffed turkeys in the front of a large van, waiting to get out of the oven. The streets held plenty to look at – Cookie Monsters, aspiring Egyptians and Peacocks, just to name a few! We rumbled on and I waved back at a few tipsy Peacocks and eventually we arrived. We fell out of the oven, sweating disgustingly. My stuff made its way into my new abode on perspiring arms.
I moved flats. And, as I have been so lucky to be able to keep saying – I like my new flatmates, and they seem okay with me! For the first time since who-knows-when, I let myself put a few things on the wall. That felt good.
Something else feels good, too: writing this post right now, even though I kind of don’t want to, because I’m ashamed / afraid / unwilling to tell you this:
That somewhere between melting in the sun, the Cookie Monster sightings and putting things up on the wall, I addressed the Time Machine in my Head. “You’ve got to stop,” I said. You see, the Time Machine in my Head keeps wanting me to live in the past or the future, ALL the time. It wants me to be sensible, or be sad, or worry, or get trapped in indecision, or settle down, or move out, or…… just be a hundred people in a single day.
And so I go east, then west; pack up, then try to stay put; buy a week’s worth of groceries before eating out three days out of five.
And so I love this city, hate this city, and learn that home is lovely and imperfect and ever-changing and smile-inducing and confusing and ultimately a place which forces and welcomes you, always, to be.
And so I’m finishing up on this blog, again. Thank you for reading – for commenting – for journeying with me. Blogging is so much more fun with you!
P.S. Social media tool-wielding friends, please note I have changed my Twitter account name to @mwrites_ and gotten rid of the Facebook page!