It’s all bubbling away inside me. Ideas. Emotions. Unexpressed in a way that conveys really what I’m feeling.
And in these moments I start to think; I have to write. I have to express. I’m not an artist but this must be what it’s like to need to create – where things come from you unexpectedly, raw, needing finesse but pouring with such depths of truth about where they’re from that they can’t hide any longer.
They are seeping into my mind, wanting release in words. Every ounce of my being is trying to capture and repress them at the same time.
I can’t express right now.
I can’t feel right now.
Right now, I have to be here. Where I am.
Where am I?
I’m currently on an epic trip across Canada, driving through mountainous terrain that have left me speechless, humbled and amazed at the world. It’s a far cry from the urban surroundings I’m used to, where buildings are the tallest things you see.
I want to soak it up and be in the now. A ‘now’ that I will only have in memories and pictures in two weeks time when it’s over and I’m back in my concrete terrain.
A ‘now’ that mindfulness has taught me to be in and that I love. A ‘now’ that usually calms my mind, roots my body and brings peace to my soul and I soak in the place I’m in.
The changing moments of ‘now’
My ‘now’ is morphing into something else. It’s hunting me down. Chasing me. Moving my mind to words that must come out; to surging emotions that run through me till I can’t be in the place my body exists and escapes to a place in my mind.
I must express. I must write. I must be in another ‘now’. Right now.
So here I am, in some of the words that I couldn’t keep in any longer. The words I saw and heard in my mind have formed a narrative that has taken over my present moment.
And now, I look up and experience something else. The mountains. You’re still there. You’re my next moment.
Thank you for waiting for me to see you. I wish life always did that.