I'm Floating....

As silly as it may seem, I miss myself. I remember before I left for my solo travels, how everyone would tell me, "Oh! You're going to have such an amazing time, learning about yourself in a whole new context." and how much that frightened me. I didn't think I could handle me all to myself all the time. Of course it turned out to be wonderful, and as corny/weird as it may sound, I fell in love with myself. I don't think that has ever happened before, and I certainly didn't think it was possible. There were moments where I surprised myself in how excellently I dealt with a scary/frustrating situation, and there were equal and opposite moments where I didn't want to have anything to do with myself and couldn't believe my obnoxious/unnecessary behavior - I had some serious Sally Field moments sprinkled in the mix, which was good because it just reinforced the notion that you have to take/love the good with the bad, and [hopefully] they balance each other out.

[me in a hotel room in Delhi - I think this was the day that I met the Austrian artist at the breakfast cafe, and after having a conversation over art and India and chai, she asked me how I was so peaceful. I was stunned. Me? Peaceful. Are you serious, lady? I didn't say that of course, but looking back, I think that was just India. Peace. In my mind it was good, and easy to forgive - both myself and others.]

I think the most important thing that I learned is that you are the only person you will ever have in life - and I don't mean this to be morbid or depressing. People come and go all the time, family, friends, lovers, co-workers, neighbors, people you always seem to share the train car with, but you're the only one who remains - duh, right? But if you really think about it, it's kind of an emboldening (and daunting) thought: you'll never be alone, even if you might feel it physically; you have to be your mother, father, sister, brother, best friend, and lover all rolled into one. As nice as it is to have people who support you, they won't always be around, and you can't ever really depend on anybody but yourself - people are flawed (me/you included).

There were so many times I wanted someone to share all the experiences with while I was bouncing around Asia, but even if there was someone there, we weren't having the same thoughts or feelings, so can you ever really share an experience? You can share an event, but the things taken away are always different. A setting sun might be simply that to one person, while it means a whole slew of things for another.

I kind of feel like I'm floating aimlessly right now, not really sure what's happening. Since I got to Guam it's been a lot of go-go-go! and hardly (if any) time to myself (hence the me missing me thing) - it's so weird sharing a room, though, again I must say that I'm sooooooo lucky to have Sarah as a roomie as she's super-duper. Being with yourself is just like any other relationship that you have to make time for and put in an effort - and sometimes that's easier said than done - so I'm working on that. It's weird trying to understand myself in this new context of Guam... so pardon the scatter-brained-ness of this post.

I'm trying to forge my own path out here in this world as it's exciting, and most days I am excited about it, but some days I think "What the heck am I doing?! How is this going to help me in the long run?" I don't know what I want, and right now my Sybil selves aren't helping me out much, either. But then I have to take a breath and think about it, and deal with everything as it comes, because if I go back to two months ago, I was terrified about the traveling I did, but three weeks ago, when I was flying to Delhi from Mumbai, the man sitting next to me commented on how brave I was, and I thought, "Well, that's strange. I don't feel brave at all, I just did it because I wanted to." So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes the looming horizon looks scary, but you just have to take a breath, hold your hand and walk towards it, because when you get there it's usually more than you ever could've expected.


[Incubus' "Aqueous Transmission" off their Morning View album from 2001 - I used to love that band, and still have a great fondness for them as it's music from my younger youth. This song used to be my favorite of favorites, and I hadn't heard it in such a long time until I moved here and one of the yoga instructors had it on her class playlist. It brought me back, and I also feel like it's fitting at this time in my life - quite a lovely surprise, so I felt like sharing.]