Skins
Sometimes I don’t feel quite myself or I feel so deeply myself that I can’t contain all of me in my skin.
When I feel like this I want to either ride my bike, write contemplatively, or snuggle my wife. This is me on the verge of an anxiety attack, between waking and sleeping, when I can’t keep going, but I’m not supposed to stop.
Where do I go from here? What do I do with this? These two questions that I’ve asked repeatedly for the last 6 years wondering who I’m becoming, wondering at whom I’m becoming. It’s a beautiful run, this life, even with all of the little traumas.
Fall always catches me in my feels. I’m my most nostalgic at fall. In a conversation with a new friend the other night, I expressed how returning to my hometown for the first time in two years sort of showed me how much I’ve changed as a person, in a good way. She commented that it’s interesting how returning helps us see the new ways our perspectives shifts.
Returning is a word I like to think about. This is a word humans seem to avoid or come to in difficult moments. It’s like the words change or progress, but the opposite of them maybe. Returning is our reminder that life needs to continue to go forward if we are ever going to evolve into our best selves. Or at least we can be hopeful about the evolution-the idea of…
