Just a random scatter-graph of images that I found on my phone. I’ve barely picked up my camera in over a month or so; I’ve kind of lost my ‘eye’ as it were. Take these as you find them – all over the place and indicative of a lot of same old same old going on.
Ever since I entered this city I’ve always had one foot out of it; I landed here by ‘accident’ and swore to myself that very evening that the first chance I had I was out of this dump. Seems the universe had other plans, because not only did I stay, I got married and had two kids! It seems as though being here was what was needed, but I’ve never really accepted this with good grace; I cannot hide my dislike of the town that trapped me.
In a sense then, I’ve never felt settled here. As much as I’ve tried to forge a home and a way of life, there has been that other persistent side of myself that was always planning for a getaway and a different life. The thought of getting out is possibly the only thing that kept me sane, but also became a means of my entanglement – I planned not for the life I was living but the one I was dreaming.
I’ve accrued a lot of clutter and baggage with that.
Recently I’ve been having dream after dream that I need to get on a train, or leave a place of danger in a hurry, but I stop to pack my bags which leaves me the last one straggling behind, and once I’ve packed up the bag is too heavy to carry. Hmm, yeah no therapist needed. I needed to let go if I wanted to get on that train.
So. I’ve given up on certain ideas, certain wishful thinkings, and I’m letting go more and more, being as an observer in my own life. And that manifesting itself as a need to let go of material things too. I’ve ransacked the house and sold or discarded anything that doesn’t either sing to my soul with its beauty, or have some use. And it’s shameful really how much that was. And a funny thing happens when you let go of things – they let go of you too, and it’s almost as though instead of owning, you’ve been owned.
I’m craving simplicity, and white walls! I’m craving the need for living according to need, and not want or greed.
The shroud, as the saying goes, has no pockets.