I am not ready for this trip. I can say this confidently, because I know exactly how it feels to look forward to overseas experiences, and I can say with a good degree of certainty that I am not looking forward to tomorrow’s little excursion into the mountains.
As to why this trip feels slightly out of balance, I cannot quite elaborate, but think of it as a dripping tap. The drops seem insignificant but is in fact the result of unimaginable water pressure being virtually nullified by a sturdy faucet. How sturdy this faucet is, we can only imagine. Because all of it is in the mind, isn’t it? How we choose to deal with things, the way in which we render past happenings and what we perceive the future to hold. The faucet is as strong as we want it to be, or perhaps as strong as we are made to be.
I just feel the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing my worth and not being able to understand how things fell into place and then out of place, before the concept of ‘place’ vaporised altogether. What felt like a good few weeks of solid escapism has come to this. I don’t know how I am supposed deal with it, but here’s to hoping I make the right choices when the time comes.