I have seen such beautiful things. Since I last wrote, I have driven through the desert and made it out slightly darker and alive. I have also gone to the beach and splashed in summer waves. I’ve ridden a gondola. I have maintained a pescatarian diet. I have been moved by amazing art. I have sipped sangria and shared tapas. I have danced barefoot in the grass at a reggae festival. I have unintentionally interrupted an interview with Erykah Badu. I have watched every single movie that I wanted to watch (so far) in theaters this summer. I have taken a surprisingly accurate personality assessment that blew me away and taught me some more things about myself. I have reconnected with the past in more than one way. I’ve seen Midnight in Paris 3 times in theaters. I have reorganized my iTunes. I’ve made some life decisions.
Life has opened itself to me, and I have allowed myself to open back up to life all over again. I am living honestly. I feel music in my soul when I look out into the world, and merely walking feels like flying. I have a sense of moving forward again. My thoughts swirl with a dizziness that only the artists of the fin de siecle in Paris could capture.
Ira Glass wrote that progress’ constant companion is a nostalgia for how things used to be. This is my unyielding struggle. By default, I live in the past because I’m an old soul. I can’t help wanting to be from or live in a different time because of a belief than life used to be simpler in the past. The truth is that life was just as hard, dull, and slightly unsatisfying as it is today. The only way to get through it is to find meaning in spite of the litany that surrounds us. To live in the present moment instead of wishing to be part of the past all the time.
This week, I made a big decision to move on from what has been ailing me. It looks like I’ll be moving on again to something new. What better time to do it than the fall? I’m nervous but excited at the same time, but I know I will find meaning and new lessons in the journey to come. I feel less afraid of letting go, now that I know where I’m headed.