the sense of infinite time

slowly… slowly… slowly… it begins to settle. the un-settling.

i have nothing to do tomorrow. or the day after. i have absolutely no reason to be stressed. there is no client needing advocacy or support. there is no event coordinating looming over me. there is no angry teacher to whom i have to respond. all i have is time. and i decide when the time is over. you know, unless something else does…

sometimes, like the split second before you fully wake up from a nightmare, i think i’m missing something i’m supposed to do, and then elation rolls over me. there is nothing. and so what remains is everything. at some moments, i think, “well, i don’t know if i can do that right now.” and then i remember, i can. i’m realizing that vacation has always created in me a sense of urgency, of limited time, of time running out. which never allowed me to do anything at all because i needed to take advantage of being still.

in choosing not to settle for a life that simultaneously bored me and made my stomach turn, i have the freedom to settle down. time gives me freedom.

i feel free for the first time… ever? it’s hard to say. i think i spent most of my past, and youth, trying to create a stable future. a “stable” future has a great deal of prerequisites and boxes; responsibilities that can be in direct opposition to the responsibilities i actually care more about.  and so i think i’ve always been answering to this potential future me. it’s like i was already caring for an infirm family member.

i’m over it. i’ve taken it back. or rather, i bought it back. i recognize that time is not free, and i am privileged to be able to make this choice. but i am so proud of my choice. and it feels so fucking good.


About trying not to touch anything

living in a space where i am half packed, or half unpacked, depending on how you look at it; going somewhere else; wanting to write about my misadventures on a planet i don't feel like i should be on

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