12 June 2008

Life after birth

It is going to be very difficult to enjoy the next phase of my life with all of this out-of-body, I Am an Observer of My Own Existence, floating-on-the-ceiling rubbish I go through on a daily basis.

Nearly two years ago (jesus), I was certain that my soul would be forcibly torn from my body the moment I landed in London. Until that point, my experiences were so much a part of my environment that I wasn’t sure the ensuing ‘me’ would be able to survive a transplant of that magnitude.

And in a way, I wasn’t wrong – the juxtaposition of self and other, inside and outside, is never more apparent than when you’re orbiting the unknown. It's like being turned rightside-out again, for the very first time. My new challenge is to finally resist the urge to objectify that all-too-visible self and simply try and be.

Having not enough time to reflect on anything plays a big part in this disconnect, I’m sure. Today is the first time in a long while that I’ve managed to push the crowding dishware off the tabletop and just press my face against its surface.

There’s little more than a hum and a cold, calm sensation. I don’t know what you’d divine with an empty table, but it seems like a good place to start.

4 comments:

Mrs Slocombe said...

That last paragraph contains its own divinations/divinity. When you hit the note it's clear and summoning.

Anonymous said...

Hey, I'm in and out and just realized you're expecting. Congratulations :-). -Brian

Anonymous said...

You are fabulous at transcribing what having a young 'un is like for the working girl. Can't wait for the next post.

Cheers.

Friday said...

Thanks. Say - do I know you? Seems you're from my hometown (statscounter, baby).