I tend to stumble more than is normal in September. It happens every year. I get anxious, unsettled and confused. I get a sudden desire to leave, to travel, to change something significant in my life so I might be propelled forward in a direction I never knew existed. If I trace back my beautiful-hiccup of the last 5 year muddle of my life, any big decisions are made in September of that given year. September is my month for break ups and the hint of summer romances. The time in which my internet history will reflect a list of travel destinations. I cannot seem to articulate very well or even pinpoint the particular frustration of this city, but September evokes it within me.
So I find myself facing that wave again, questioning if my expectations for life, relationships, even cities are too big and or too unrealistic. I panicked today, the first day back at university after the semester break. Everything was just a bit too… city, a bit too predictable. My heart suddenly felt like it was a hundred sentences away in a travel guide or at-least a map of some foreign town. I felt anxious after one day back in the hustle of the city which had already exhausted me. So I did what any sensible soul would do, I turned on my heels and sought refuge in the nearest library. After a fair amount of books were selected and issued I headed home, where I am now sitting in the sun in an oversized-faded-paint-splattered shirt, bare legs with tea and a home made strawberry & macadamia tart, dreaming of places I would rather be. Mostly? I’m dreaming of the sea, of tanned legs and clear waters.
I am frustrated with the ordinary light of this city, but I must constantly remind myself that light comes in many shapes and forms and all the light we cannot see will shine soon enough. I am unaccustomed to this earth but find steadiness in the fact that October always comes after September and I dont tend to stumble as much in October.
Just a handful of thoughts written a few days after the first Sunday in September.