A frozen moment
Well, I am back. Physically anyway. It still doesn't feel exactly like I am back. After experiencing ten days of cruisy islander time, followed by the meanderings around sheep covered New Zealand, I find myself still catching up with the Real World.
The swirling chaos of life in which I normally thrive feels harsh and rapid. I'd like some time to ease back gently into the writhing waters, but I haven't had that luxury. It has been a torrent of difficult situations from the first hour I returned. Now I find myself on the verge of perhaps the most critical situation yet, and instead of being sharp like I want to be, like I should be, I am scattered and unfocused.
Time carries on, dragging the rest of us along with it, like it does whether we like it or not. Honestly, I've been back about 2 weeks longer than the actual length of the trip, yet I still can't sync with the rest of the world. It feels in some ways like it has gone past in the blink of an eye, and in other ways feels like it has contained a year's worth of happenings. The real world does not feel quite right, it does not feel quite like home.
So here I sit, in front of all these raw words, trying to craft something beautiful, as though I might be able to mold this random emotion into a form which is self describing. And which can persist; a moment within this ceaseless storm of time that can last forever, no matter how fierce the winds blow, and no matter what they might bring.
It isn't a destructive emotion, one that needs to be removed. This emotion is a symptom, something like a signal. It is intended to be felt, so that the lessons of this harsh moment are remembered more vividly. Nevertheless, the expression of this emotion, however imprecisely, feels soothing, like soft hands loosening taunt muscles. Already I feel more relaxed, and tiredness is carried in on the wind of this calming breeze.