I’ve been having a lot of reflecting time lately. This period in my life is different since I went to Mexico and came back. My priorities have been realigned. Things that used to be so important faded in glory, and other things I thought I would one day do, have emerged as the new priority. I dropped out of most of my social groups, and had the excuse of being way too busy, which was in fact, entirely true. I have missed seeing their faces, but I can’t hold up conversation. Just can’t.
I used to talk about the things I wanted to do. Now I am silent and just doing it. But what am I doing? I am writing, reading, painting, changing. I am noticing myself filled up with energy that wants to give itself as support to the fighters in the world, yet without the need of being understood by anyone. I find myself being not about *me* anymore. Bored with the old me, the child who needed constant reassurance, the artist frozen in fear, the dragon who sat still, the lion who wouldn’t roar, I’m walking away from comfort zones of comprehension. You think an explanation is needed? Sorry, you will leave empty handed.