To what do you dedicate a life? What do these two hands do each day? Where do these two feet walk? I find these thoughts spinning through my head as I walk these streets that now seem empty.
I feel as though I’ve been overstaying my welcome for years now. I look back, and there’s so many gaps like this in between the moments that cause my soul to resonate. One phase of my life will end and there’s this empty space that follows filled with lonely days while I bide my time waiting for the next phase to begin. It’s those last weeks of school before summer vacation – diligently filling out busy work, because even the teacher has checked out at this point.
“God dammit you’ve got to be kind.” ~Kurt Vonnegut
In moments like these, I’m aware of the spaces, the silences. I can feel the abyss within between the bones and sinews of my body, waiting to vibrate to a new rhythm and waiting for something to align to. It’s hard to focus on the present moment because it feels as though nothing is here.
It’s these moments where you fall back on the structure of your life. The house I built here was hit by a little hurricane of sorts, and is now teetering on one of four strong walls that were holding it up. The one wall I have left is my practice, and I’ve been digging into that something fierce. But one wall does not a home make, and it’s been difficult to sustain myself on that.
It’s not all doom and gloom – there’s exciting opportunities on the horizon and my travels will soon take me further south. In the meantime, I stand on this ledge half way up the rock – balancing with my back pressed firmly against the mountain, looking down but trying to stay focused on what lies ahead.
