Samwise, c'est moi
Ok...thinking and thinking...talking...meditating...thinking again...receiving phone calls at 8 am while walking to work, only to get to work in a thick fog, unable to concentrate, grateful because it's Wednesday and I have planned to watch a movie, so I don't need to conduct a proper lesson. Receiving more phone calls, which for some reason turn into unreal conversation of "Well, let us know if you want to hear from us again", and still I don't understand how we got there, feeling guilty, guilty, guilty, 24 hours a day.
Feeling stuck, feeling unreal, feeling surrounded by emptiness, as if everything around me has crumbled down, and I am left alone to pick up the pieces, but in darkness. Feeling so unreal, so unreal that I cannot explain how it feels exactly, except that it seems to me that the last three months have been someone else's life, strange and uncomfortable, something I am trying to adjust to, my hyper, happy, crazy me, my active me, my hectic me. So, lots of things to do, lessons to prepare, hours at the gym, websites to study, and trying to meditate, read, understand, or make sense.
The weekend, a swim, a lovely, lovely swim, then a tea with Ian, a walk to the beach and some pixies, a fish soup and a long talk/chat, the day after watching a beautiful Spanish movie which anticipated another long talk, and all these good moments are tied together, and they make me smile, they make me feel good. And in school, after the Halloween party, after the English cream tea afternoon, after the preparation of lessons, after the breaks and lunches in the staff room, laughing and talking with Andrew and Ana, and then the beautiful evening in Lewes for November 5th, what a lovely night, what A LOVELY FREEZING NIGHT.
More good feelings, more feelings that I am doing fine, that this is a good thing.
Things are so difficult, and I don't know what to do. I like being here, and I miss my mum, and the comfort of our house, and the air. I like being here, and I miss the band, playing together, the madness of my friends, and of course human contact, hugging people. There was a volunteer for Oxfam near the Pavillion, the other week, wearing a "free hugs" shirt, and for a long, long second I thought of going and hugging him.
Things are so difficult, and I am trying to pray. I don't know what I am doing exactly, or if I am doing it right. I don't know what to do. I have lots of websites to help me through this; it hurts to think that I was (quite) sure to be "guided" by my piccolino, and I cannot be. I am not confident enough to go and ask for help at my church. So I am reading, receiving emails to guide me, saving file after file, reading the Bible, praying on my way to work, because walking is my way to concentrate.
In a way, I am trying to think and meditate; in another, I am trying not to. Things are so difficult.
But then, I plan to spend a weekend at home at the beginning of December, before spending 2 weeks there for Christmas, and my lessons are going well, and this weekend I am going out with Ana for a drink, and we are organising the activities for next week, and I will earn some extra money for the translation of the website of the school, which is cool; then, I come home, and I have a fruit salad, the kitchen is clean, Noisy Drunk Housemate is moving out at the end of the month, and then Ian leaves a message on my answerphone, so I call him, and he calls me back not to make me spend money, and when his dinner is ready he says "bye", and calls me back again two minutes later.
Brother, is he sweet. God bless him, he is the most wonderful person I have ever met.
Well, Friday's coming, and I have one more lesson, my two hours at the gym, and books to read, to begin the weekend the proper way. And it's getting late, I want to read before going to sleep.
Samwise, c'est moi: torn between two worlds.
Feeling stuck, feeling unreal, feeling surrounded by emptiness, as if everything around me has crumbled down, and I am left alone to pick up the pieces, but in darkness. Feeling so unreal, so unreal that I cannot explain how it feels exactly, except that it seems to me that the last three months have been someone else's life, strange and uncomfortable, something I am trying to adjust to, my hyper, happy, crazy me, my active me, my hectic me. So, lots of things to do, lessons to prepare, hours at the gym, websites to study, and trying to meditate, read, understand, or make sense.
The weekend, a swim, a lovely, lovely swim, then a tea with Ian, a walk to the beach and some pixies, a fish soup and a long talk/chat, the day after watching a beautiful Spanish movie which anticipated another long talk, and all these good moments are tied together, and they make me smile, they make me feel good. And in school, after the Halloween party, after the English cream tea afternoon, after the preparation of lessons, after the breaks and lunches in the staff room, laughing and talking with Andrew and Ana, and then the beautiful evening in Lewes for November 5th, what a lovely night, what A LOVELY FREEZING NIGHT.
More good feelings, more feelings that I am doing fine, that this is a good thing.
Things are so difficult, and I don't know what to do. I like being here, and I miss my mum, and the comfort of our house, and the air. I like being here, and I miss the band, playing together, the madness of my friends, and of course human contact, hugging people. There was a volunteer for Oxfam near the Pavillion, the other week, wearing a "free hugs" shirt, and for a long, long second I thought of going and hugging him.
Things are so difficult, and I am trying to pray. I don't know what I am doing exactly, or if I am doing it right. I don't know what to do. I have lots of websites to help me through this; it hurts to think that I was (quite) sure to be "guided" by my piccolino, and I cannot be. I am not confident enough to go and ask for help at my church. So I am reading, receiving emails to guide me, saving file after file, reading the Bible, praying on my way to work, because walking is my way to concentrate.
In a way, I am trying to think and meditate; in another, I am trying not to. Things are so difficult.
But then, I plan to spend a weekend at home at the beginning of December, before spending 2 weeks there for Christmas, and my lessons are going well, and this weekend I am going out with Ana for a drink, and we are organising the activities for next week, and I will earn some extra money for the translation of the website of the school, which is cool; then, I come home, and I have a fruit salad, the kitchen is clean, Noisy Drunk Housemate is moving out at the end of the month, and then Ian leaves a message on my answerphone, so I call him, and he calls me back not to make me spend money, and when his dinner is ready he says "bye", and calls me back again two minutes later.
Brother, is he sweet. God bless him, he is the most wonderful person I have ever met.
Well, Friday's coming, and I have one more lesson, my two hours at the gym, and books to read, to begin the weekend the proper way. And it's getting late, I want to read before going to sleep.
Samwise, c'est moi: torn between two worlds.
Labels: mind and heart, praying, the usual chaos
posted by Peggy @ 10:37 PM
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