I wish I could just delete Facebook, particularly since they have started a conscientious censorship programme, but my business and many of my logins are tied to my Facebook account. I'm not sure how to extricate myself from it. It's toxic. What started as something so innocent as staying in touch with loved ones has turned into a pinboard of hate, contempt and disconnection.
What I've noticed the most since the lockdown, is not the silence in the streets or shops, but the noise inside my head and inside my world.
Emails, social media accounts, logins, clutter that fills up my head - and with no good reason.
This noise is exhausting. I don't know about you, but I have to clear the junk from my email every day, the notifications on social media interrupt our daily activities, but more important it takes my time away from my inner world, time with others and time with the Earth.
I've been allowing this deep, subconscious thought to control me. I am the one who gave it power. So what if I was rejected.
I am going through a transition.
Covid-19 may have been an instigator for me to finally look at this, but this is something which started in 2016 - before my existential crisis, before my neck injury, before the shattering of my ego into tiny pieces.
I am in a new place.
It feels empty and yet full of potential.
You can bring down the metaphorical houses around us; our economic and social systems, our bureaucratic systems, our education and health systems, you can destroy families and take away loved ones who die all alone, but know this, I am not alone. The people reading this letter are also here.
It's an interesting time, isn't it?
I wish at times like this I was a historian, so I could document all of the interesting things you are triggering off around the world. But instead, I want to thank you Covid-19 for creating this crisis - a crisis of scale not seen since WWII - for reminding me who I am.
the thought of actually saying "I love you" makes me feel incredibly vulnerable, so vulnerable in-fact, that I feel emotionally naked.
My partner, Kind Man, is on the other side of the continent and I'm not going to lie, I'm struggling with the distance. At first I enjoyed the space and the freedom that came with being alone, but then when the chaos of moving started to settle, I started to notice his absence. I missed him. But this blog is not about long-distant relationships,
It was messy, it was painful at times and even now, the grief of leaving one behind grabs at my heart and I miss her, I miss our lives and the times which we shared.
I have just arrived home on the East Coast of Australia after driving in a convoy for more than 4000km with two daughters and a dog. We literally drove across the country in a week and it still boggles my mind how far and wide this big, beautiful country is.
I wonder if, on some level, I enjoy the stress of moving; it creates excitement in my life and gives me something to look forward to.
Have you ever felt like you don't belong somewhere? It feels like I've spent my entire life searching for this illusive place where I belong. I'm yet to find it. In approximately 20 days, I will be driving 4500km across the country, back to where I was born. For a long time, I've felt disconnected from the place where I currently live and it's never felt like home, I've never felt like I belonged here. So when I went through my existential crisis here, one of the first things to resonate as a part of my re-birthed identity was my home; my soul and ancestral home. Once I discovered it, it was only a matter of time until I decided to return. Now, with 20ish days to go after nine years away, I'm packing...