the voice of grief
in recent conversations with my mum, and with windy, this has come up...
of all the things that grief has brought, it's the total annihilation of my wanderlust that frightens me most. every time i start trying to think of, or plan, september travel, i hit a wall.
it's a wall that says, "no, not yet.
no, you'll get there and you'll feel nothing.
no, you'll get there and you'll end up a huddled mass of tears.
no, you don't want to go there any more than you want to go anywhere else.
no, you're not passionate about it, so why bother right now?
no, better to save your money and just buy a ticket to new orleans and wander the french quarter by yourself until you end up at his tomb, where all of this... nothingness... this everything... this mess... originates."
morocco meets this wall. as does mont st michel, venice, greece, eastern europe… there is nothing there right now that calls me, even though the pull was so strong several months ago that I could barely wait.
maybe it's my heart and mind's way of telling me to slow down, to be patient, to allow myself the time to grieve before i jump back into living out loud. i don't know. i only know that it's a little terrifying to me, and something i've never quite felt, like a fire put out that has always blazed within me.
:(
of all the things that grief has brought, it's the total annihilation of my wanderlust that frightens me most. every time i start trying to think of, or plan, september travel, i hit a wall.
it's a wall that says, "no, not yet.
no, you'll get there and you'll feel nothing.
no, you'll get there and you'll end up a huddled mass of tears.
no, you don't want to go there any more than you want to go anywhere else.
no, you're not passionate about it, so why bother right now?
no, better to save your money and just buy a ticket to new orleans and wander the french quarter by yourself until you end up at his tomb, where all of this... nothingness... this everything... this mess... originates."
morocco meets this wall. as does mont st michel, venice, greece, eastern europe… there is nothing there right now that calls me, even though the pull was so strong several months ago that I could barely wait.
maybe it's my heart and mind's way of telling me to slow down, to be patient, to allow myself the time to grieve before i jump back into living out loud. i don't know. i only know that it's a little terrifying to me, and something i've never quite felt, like a fire put out that has always blazed within me.
:(