The boat heaved forward, its base breaking the otherwise perfectly calm body of water. A flock of seagulls raced alongside. I looked out to the skyline of glittering city lights and smiled to myself. And then I took a breath deeper than the regular. Filling the very depths of my lungs, until every tiny space was occupied. This is something I like to do when I’m somewhere I love and am happy in and don’t want to forget. The hope is that this air- this perfect air from this perfect time, will linger inside me a little longer, dividing itself amongst air circulating through my body in regular life, improving everything else always. I am almost certain it has worked, so far.
The winds of change have started to blow. I am really starting to feel it- every day becoming increasingly aware of it. I have started to say my first goodbyes, my first lasts. Each time I go somewhere, subconsciously I am wondering whether I won’t see it again for a long time, if ever. It’s exciting, but it’s scary. Life feels surreal, almost all of the time. It will surely only skew more as the deadline of the now, the ending of this season of my life, draws nearer. And for this I am excited.
At one stage I was adamant on creating a very strict time schedule for myself. To train me up, you know, some self-discipline. I can do it, I can have complete control of me! Or so I thought. It didn’t work. And I ended up feeling guilty every time my head hit the pillow after 11pm, or if I arose beyond 6.30am. This was no way to live. So I gave that up. And am living life to its fullest daily instead. Sleepovers with my best friend almost every night. Trips to the supermarket at 11.30pm, all the time. For silly things, like batteries, and olive oil spray. Patting the dog for an hour straight, wrist aching but smiling because I love her. Laughing out loud on the bus this evening because a girl put her ticket in the machine and it never came back. The bus had to be turned off entirely, then the machine reset, in order for it to spit the red, printed cardboard rectangle back in to her palm where it came from.
The pile of washing in my laundry grows taller every day. Maintenance bothers me. I would rather build up mess and spend an entire day cleaning, than do a little all the time. Maintenance is a chore, spring cleaning is an adventure!
I have bruises on my arms and legs and I don’t know where they came from. Probably swinging on my chair at work or moving my furniture around in the middle of the night, for fun and a sense of newness.
I have a newfound appreciation for living but a few kilometres from a myriad of beautiful beaches. Each week I endeavour to be there at least once. These days its every few and sometimes couple days instead. There’s an openness that lies there, it can’t be replicated without physicality. It’s somewhere I feel I need to be often. So that’s what I’ve been doing.
My skin is thankful for the salty remedies of the often ocean. But not so much for the additional sunlight. I feel the roses of my cheeks are permanently coloured by it, but looking in the mirror I am reminded constantly of my friendship with the sun, so that makes it okay.
I stay up late to think. It’s the best activity in the world. I drink from the same cup I water my plants with. Half a cup for you, half a cup for me. My peace lily has grown exponentially since its purchase. I haven’t closed my balcony door in over a month. Rain sometimes comes through the windows but none of my things get wet. I learnt that lesson the hard way. I play violin music with my viola. Nobody has time for alto clef! My oven doesn’t work- right now I’m making brownies in the grill instead. For a friend who lent me his car yesterday, to photograph one final wedding. Within 5 minutes the top went black. So I scraped off the black parts, mixed the half-cooked rest and put it back in. This time at a lower heat, so hopefully that’ll work.
The first of the lasts, a weird section of time and of life. But it forces a readjustment- of priorities. People priorities, time-using priorities, spending priorities. All of the priorities.
If the glittering lights in the harbour were turned out, all that would be left is a boat gliding across the dark ocean, no end in clear sight but a journey to be enjoyed no less. Icy droplets on a sunburnt face, perfect air filling every space. A new season is on the horizon and my arms are stretched wide open to welcome its embrace