Dear Reader,
this month I have been transitioning to Wolverhampton, UK and I am taking you with me into the emotional story space of my working-living-feeling cube in a very high apartment building where my perception of my connections in the world is intensified, and my sense of self sharpened through what I am trying to learn academically on this PhD journey.
All the thinking that occupies most hours of my days needs to be balanced with moving and being and feeling and I am trying to make more space for that. I was recently inspired by artist Camille Barton to think about the practice of grieving as a way to intentionally hold space for our human experience. In this article from the The Nap Ministry you can dive deeper. But it basically encourages you to set up a grief jar and to write things down that you are missing. For today this post is my grief jar.
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I miss the autumn in the garden of my grandparents, hooking away the fallen leaves. Harvesting the last herbs. Helping them to prepare the garden for the winter.
I miss holding my best friend in my arms to comfort him as he is going through a break up.
I miss the occasional whiskey with my Greek friends in Reykjavik talking about how shitty the weather is and still loving it.
I miss Reykjavik’s cats and mountains and the sky and the clouds, the closeness to the wilderness.
I miss taking a walk at Lake Constance and being immersed in the sublime of the alps, having a piece of cake with my good friend Isabel.
I miss sitting around a table with my whole family, feeling the depth of relationship through all the life that we have shared so far.
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I am grateful for all these relationships to humans and animals and places and nature. They carry me through my travels in which the intensity of being on my own is a challenging yet productive time space continuum.
Zoom calls start and end, the sun rises, it rains, the sun sets. The moon is full, and then half. A Rainbow above the School of Art interrupts the grey. Time passes so fast while thinking and reading and writing, trusting that something is evolving out of this. A walk in the park everyday, sometimes twice. English parks won’t let you down. Sainsbury abundance, more overwhelming than any theory. Memories of my first time living abroad, realizing it is 16 years ago, time passes too fast. 7 lives I need.
By the way, there are also cats in Wolverhampton, luckily.
