Missing home a lot this week.
Found myself closing my eyes this morning on the train dreaming of sitting somewhere on kloof street with a coffee and a magazine, maybe a friend too.
When I start imagining signal hill-running I have to stop, otherwise I float into a world of endless dissatisfaction with ‘now’
It’s quite tough here. And its making me tough. Which is why I stay.
Toughness is relative, but to me, its constant highs and lows. But I do find, the lows last longer here.
Have realised how totally sheltered I was from the world and things not going my way.
Have grown up.
Will be forever grateful to my friend Julia Durrant for talking me through her experience in London. Her words echo every time I doubt why I moved over here.
When I come home, which will be sometime soon, like within the next 18 months, (who knows, I keep telling myself that to keep me going) I will be clearer on what type of life/home/job/ I want. and I will be able to get it. I will have the confidence to get what I want and ask for what I need. I will appreciate the mountain more, and the stillness. I already feel all these things, so am hoping the next chapter here before I come home will only bring about more growth and epiphany’s.
I will hug my sausage dog Thandi, and never let her go.
But first, I have the Temper Trap and Gypsy Kings to see live before the Olympics start at the end of July.
Endless ‘once and lifetime opportunities’ in Londontown.
I complain and bitch about you London, but its also how I feel about my family. So really, you should be flattered.