Five Days Out

We are out of the house. This is a good record to keep because I've been telling people it's been a tough couple of weeks. Now based on my last post I can see it's actually been a tough month. No wonder there are knots in my shoulders.

Whilst in the midst of all this it's hard to reflect. But I want to try.

As a new parent I've been talking a lot about fantasy v.s. reality. How the fantasy of "having a baby" is completely different than the reality of being a parent. I've talked about it so much in fact, that I have disconnected myself from all fantasy. Plans, organization and errands have buried my light. Stress sits on me, pushes my face into the carpet, and kicks me while I'm down. I've been getting frustrated and angry; and the bags under my eyes have grown darker. My back aches. I've forgotten everything except that I am a victim to this mess. But I created this mess. I am not victim to it.

I realized tonight, just 24 hours after the smoke cleared, that my soul has been suffocating. And pretending like you don't need to feed your soul is what happens when you become a victim to work and stress and society. It keeps you from your potential when you don't allow yourself to fantasize about what you want out of life anymore. I've been so focused on the reality of moving to Italy that I haven't allowed myself to get caught in the romanticism of it. Painting and literature, music and cinema, photography and poetry; these are the things I want to seek out in this new life, these are the things that make my soul breathe.

This weekend has invigorated me. These two days have helped erase the stress of four weeks. Last night I got to see the entire community of people that make Portland home. People who I love and cherish and will miss dearly. Tonight I had dinner with my favorite boys and played music with my brother. In a matter of 24 hours the light has returned, the bags have faded and I can stand up straight again. Now I am able to see how lucky I am, how privileged we are, how beautiful this life is and will be. Rome doesn't have to be hard. I don't have to be lonely. I can decide that it will be amazing. I can dream about filling my life with writing and music, with poetry and fantasy, movies and beauty. I'm starting over. The pen is bleeding onto a blank page. I am holding it steady, waiting for the right words to start my story.