GESTATING

Travelling. Everything you read about and expect is that it is supposed t be the most amazing, boozy, making friends, shagging boys senseless and generally having the best ever time of your life. I wonder if that is only the bits that people remember? Do they remember all the times they felt lonely, frustrated and out of place?

You see, my experience of travelling at the moment (albeit I am stuck in London) has been one of total loss of sense of place and purpose. Frankly, I have been having a god awful time with myself these last couple of months. I am miserable, demotivated, hermetic and generally listless. And you knw what - its ok. I am holed up in mylittle loft room, slowly gestating, wondering, lots of sleeping and delving into who i am and what it is I really want and value in life. This takes time. And a lack of distraction. How bizarre that I am living in one of the most hectic, things happening cities in the world and it is here that I have chsen to take a sabbatical from life so to speak. (Wished I had planned it better and was on some tropical island somewhere though!)

In some ways, I feel like a monk who has chosen t live in a cave on some mountainside seeking enlightment. Sit with just yourself long enoough and you start to see yourself a little better. Whilst it can be incredibly awkward and frustrating to see aspects of yourself that are perhaps a little unpleasant, I am trying to place myself in the non judgmental position as observer.

I have been watching my brain and am amazed at how much it skitters and hithers here and there with total reckless abandon and lack of focus. How much time and energy it wastes churning over irrelevant and inconsequential things. There is a distinct lack of calmness to my thoughts and indeed my very being.

So I am going to cntinue to sit, observing myself in this dark place with a knowledge that this time is valuable and needed and that a tiny flicker of light will eventually slowly begin to burn and illuminate a new path for myself to take.