I have been trying to find myself. Again. I wonder when the process of losing and having to find oneself again stops. Or if it does.
I had thought about dance classes or creative writing or just doing anything different and seeing if I could find myself there but a wise person pointed out that you are always taking you into any new situation. You have to start there.
The same wise person suggested that one of the ways of starting there might be to explore the things that I like. To notice what I am drawn too and what makes me feel good.
I have been trying to pay attention. These are some of the things that I know I like…
The feeling of the sun on my back.
Talking to people. Not small-talking but those conversations where you share things and ask questions and explore the world together.
Music and, particularly, music that is felt as much as it is heard.
Hugs. Giving and receiving.
The blossom on the trees and the moment that you spot the first blossom. Crocuses and daffodils and purple tulips.
Books where the story is held in the words and the way that the words are strung together makes you shiver. Characters that come to life. Stories that live in your head as much as on the page.
London. The speed of the tubes. The Houses of Parliament at night. The background murmur of life. The pride of knowing all the bus routes. The roads and parks that have been trodden for decades. The permanency of the Thames, its strength.
Swimming. Particularly when no one else is there and that first moment when you push off from the side.
Homemade bread. Still warm. And with marmite dripping into it.
Roses and lychee martinis.
Laughing so hard that it hurts and you feel like you’re a giggling teenager again.
England and the English. The quirks (“I’m sorry” when someone bumps into you) that you only find over here. The rolling fields and the history that is written into the cities and into the countryside. Roast dinners and winter fires.
It feels like I could go on.
It is disturbingly easy to forget these things when you’re feeling lost. To overlook the things that make you feel good and are there, waiting, should you need something to pick-you up. Or something to ground you.