So it’s been a while since I have written an actual post. I guess I did not consider how time-consuming taking a photo a day would be or just how much pressure I put on myself to make something that I am happy with. Tonight, I sat and thought about what I have learnt from this project and I wanted to share some of my reflections with you.
My hotel room tonight is filled with thoughts and questions that do not really require answers. A space which is full of what I call the ‘white noise’ of my mind. The buzz of a million thoughts without a definitive theme or one protruding thought. When was the last time I felt silence or, more importantly, the lack of activity? When did I last look without seeing a theory? When did my mind become so busy? Was it all at once or over an extended time? This project has made me realise that I spend so much of my day thinking about the void of indefinite questions for the worry about what the silence may bring me. I cry alone in the comfort of my own arms when I let my bubble burst as if the auditorium had been opened up to an aggiornamento. Some days I am not the strongest warrior but resilience does not have to be measured for merit. I am not returning from a moribund state or stained with an astrobleme. I just live within my dimensions using mistakes as my portal to discovery.
Days like this, I sit in the eye of my storm watching the crap fly around me but never seeing it touch me. I use touch because I stopped feeling it, like a second skin. A skin that is unattached to me – the anxiety it can cause me, the weight my shoulder potential feel and the smile that could quickly disappear if the winds drew me in. I sit and stare into the darkened, nearly black, cyclone of my days and pray for more time to work it all out. I remain at a distance like an ostrich with sand. When did I become less mealy-mouthed, sobersided, and place-seeking? More crucially, can a self-critic ever really be mealy-mouthed? Am I ready to face this yet, to reengage when the sand is so inviting for my head? What do I fear if I succeed at life? Regardless of all this, I know that my building blocks can be rearranged better (and worse). Have I just gone too far too quickly? I think so and I don’t have the gas to reverse.
I know that I am soon going to be having a deep conversation with my silence. Timing is everything, my friend. I’ll have my people call your people.