They say it takes twenty-one days to form a habit. By that count, writing and posting here has become a habit. Again, I have not reached the point of writing deeply thought-out posts that offer much to the world, but one step at a time. And to be fair, I have had an intense month.
These past couple of days, I have been trying to balance taking time for myself, my inevitable job search, setting up this space, and figuring out where and when we will be moving somewhere. We are in a small vacation home in northern Italy, but this is by no means a permanent arrangement.
We do not know what the next few months will look like and, therefore, have no idea if we will be returning to Belgium, staying in Italy, or moving to a new city entirely.
I believe Jesse’s contract at work has changed, meaning returning to Belgium is the most likely scenario. But the question of when remains.
The only certainty I have in my life is what exists in these walls.
- I know Sed will wake me up every morning when she thinks I have forgotten to feed her.
- I know Igneous and Jesse will stay in bed for an extra hour or so.
- I know one of us will take Igneous out for a walk in the morning.
- I know I will journal for 20 minutes.
- I know I will study Italian.
- I know we will work in separate rooms during the day.
- I know we will go for a walk or run at the end of the day with Igneous.
- I know we will divide up our dinner prep: one cooks and the other cleans.
- I know we will spend time together then.
I am used to a chaotic, adventurous life. I committed myself to living life, taking as much in as possible years ago when I took a break from writing. It is only fitting when I find myself in a state of calm, with little life to live outside of my daily routine that I would return to writing.
I am grateful to have the time and space to return to one of my first loves—so many people do not have that right now or ever. Writing has always been where I felt safest and most myself.
I can feel myself changing in response to this. I feel liberated in ways I haven’t in years. I feel a certainty about myself that I have not felt in a while. I know I am just writing for myself right now. There is only a handful of you reading this right now. Maybe someday that will change. Permitting myself to just write—and not having the pressure of an actual audience to write for—has been liberating and allowed me to start.
I have lists of ideas for where I want this space to go. I have projects that I am eager to start and share with you. I may someday even share this space with more people. But for now, I am happy to be writing. To have you here, reading my thoughts and getting to know me in ways I never thought would be possible. I am happy to feel at home, both in my physical environment and in my head—or on the page.
I know that what I doing takes time and practice. I have never been a patient person, which is probably why I picked to do 365 days straight of writing in the first place to both challenge myself and up my practice time.
With this project, I tell myself I am being patient, working up to what I want to be doing.
Or maybe I am stalling.
I am telling myself I am taking a break since the past few months have been intense. Next week, I will do this. Next week, I will do that. I need to start now.
Tonight, I write a reflective post about how this process has been changing me. Tomorrow, I begin the work on some of the more intensive areas I want to explore with you. How does that sound?