So hard truth: I’m actually still mourning the losses of moving. all of it. everyone. everyday. every night. even in my dreams. especially in my dreams. I would dream and feel the guilt I felt for choosing myself and choosing the ‘more’ of life, the people I left behind… and it made me feel like I shouldn’t be celebrating what I have now, what I have accomplished until now, which frankly sucks because it puts me into a spiral of self-doubt and my personal hole of depression. But why do that when you can live in the present? am I right? Easier said than done. And the more I thought about writing this article the more I was intimidated, what had I really done until now? – cue in the guilt. Hence why it took over half the month to gather the courage to say what I need to say, and as promised my no bs policy continues, I was in a trench and therefore no posts. But now for the revelation-
The thing is you can`t really be in the present if you haven`t “let go” of the past. That’s kind of how life works and that’s kind of how your brain works. Again easier said than done. So what’s the secret? It wasn’t until the 15th of this month (January) 6.5 months that I really felt myself, as I would describe it: stepping into ‘the present’. The nights, however, leading up to this were full of the people and moments I had from the past. Every morning I would feel like the world was on my shoulders like I owed someone something. And let me tell you this feeling is NOT great, especially repeatedly. But when I realized that this year, 2018, that I would at some point be going back to Vancouver, Canada to VISIT (key word there) and not live, something clicked. Pride. Satisfaction. Knowing that I could go back to Vancouver with the knowledge, the power, the audacity to call it a ‘visit’, but even more so knowing that I have a home to come back to afterward… THAT made me feel-bluntly-like a million bucks, like I had done something. And here’s what I`ve done: Built a home. – cue in the classic:
I built my home. Built my hood, Lichtefelde West. These are the streets that I pass every single day. For those that don’t know I started living on the very end of the same street I live on now, a block down in fact then moved two months later a few houses down. So truly since I moved here I have been on the same street. Magical stuff. Even more magical I found out that my grandmother actually grew up two street from mine. Coincidence? I think not. When I biked down the road for the first time I was appeased. The road has become so familiar to me, and I didn`t know that it could carry so much emphasis, but now I see how it has been a supporting piece of my journey to building my home.
And now that I have evolved, grown as a person, I can feel myself stepping more and more into what is right in front of me and leaving the past in the past, a difficult task might I add. The progress is somehow becoming more of a “healing-curve” as well as “learning-curve”, and I have more of an appreciation for the mourning periods I go through. And let me just say that home isn’t necessarily a place, it’s a feeling in your heart, and speaking from experience, the ‘home’ feeling isn’t one easily developed, my home used to be someone arms, and I learned that home actually needs to be within yourself first. Just like you have to love yourself first. So I guess what I`m saying is that this is what I`ve done. I have a home now, and I ain`t perfect, so I know that these little mourning phases aren’t quite done yet, it`s still lingering, but MORE of me is now here, in the present, with you as you read this, and hopefully sometime soon my process of letting go will be completed and I can FULLY step into the now.
I`m guessing there will be follow up to this article…