I have decided that windows make every bit of difference.
My office has been moved from a little room in the middle of a basement to a room at the edge of a basement... with two windows. And having the sun pour onto me and being able to watch a beautiful sunset out my window at the end of the day is just lovely.
It makes me really excited about my travels coming up: I decided instead of sticking around and not travelling, I would go somewhere... And after great debate as to the where (the debate being...visit dear Riv in Scotland, Go-Eders in Uganda, or Bee in the Middle East), I decided that what I actually needed was to go home. To my birthplace.
So in 29 days I will be back in the Caribbean, watching the sun set to a green flash on one side of the island, and the moon rise over the rough waves on the other side. And I can't wait. Still, every time now that things get overwhelming, or I am just so exhausted, or frustrated, or down, I take out the thought of where I will soon be, hold it out at arms length, dust it off, turn it around a bit in admiration, and then set it back in anticipation.
In 29 days, I'll be swimming in 80 degree, crystal clear water and walking with flamingos and eating pastechi.
It's a window into the future, and a window into a past that was locked up.
I think that's something to be excited about.
My office has been moved from a little room in the middle of a basement to a room at the edge of a basement... with two windows. And having the sun pour onto me and being able to watch a beautiful sunset out my window at the end of the day is just lovely.
It makes me really excited about my travels coming up: I decided instead of sticking around and not travelling, I would go somewhere... And after great debate as to the where (the debate being...visit dear Riv in Scotland, Go-Eders in Uganda, or Bee in the Middle East), I decided that what I actually needed was to go home. To my birthplace.
So in 29 days I will be back in the Caribbean, watching the sun set to a green flash on one side of the island, and the moon rise over the rough waves on the other side. And I can't wait. Still, every time now that things get overwhelming, or I am just so exhausted, or frustrated, or down, I take out the thought of where I will soon be, hold it out at arms length, dust it off, turn it around a bit in admiration, and then set it back in anticipation.
In 29 days, I'll be swimming in 80 degree, crystal clear water and walking with flamingos and eating pastechi.
It's a window into the future, and a window into a past that was locked up.
I think that's something to be excited about.
1 comment:
I'm pretty excited for you. And maybe just a teensy-weensy bit jealous as well...
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