March 16, 2018
There are a lot of days in my pockets. There are 48 more to go until the aeroplane takes me back home.
34 days ago in Berlin, my life did a somersault. Some pieces fell out of my jacket and smashed but one thing that I know very well is how to wipe the slate clean. Give it a polish and a kiss for good luck. Pick up my things and start again. I don't know if it gets easier but you do get better at it.
When my camera was lost that day in Berlin, I stood on an empty train platform and stared at the grey sky and billboards and I spoke to the Universe (or myself, who knows), realizing two things that felt very true.
The first was that I needed to separate from my partner and stand on my own for awhile. The years had compounded on my back and my spine was slumping. I fought against the decision in the beginning, but with a lot of encouragement from Jerred to take the time to go deep into my heart and spread my wings, as he's always said, I hunkered down. Still reluctantly sometimes. I still kick and scream and cry sometimes. But I'm also sucking in air. I'm deconstructing beliefs that have been calling the shots. I'm accepting change.
The second was that I want to support myself through my photographs. Instantly, I had lost the ability to create images. And it was like losing an arm. I didn't realize how many hopes and dreams I had wrapped up in this thing. So okay okay okay—I'll give it a go. Okay okay okay—I'll actually try for something for once. So I guess I'm going to go freelance when I get back to Canada. Okay okay okay—let's see where this goes.
It feels like a lot of things are shifting—moving like dunes in the wind.
Someone said how awesome it is that I've found my path, that I've discovered a life that works for me. And I guess there's some truth to that. I love my life. I love wandering and drifting and discovering. It feels so natural.
But I can get stuck in a lifestyle same as anyone. I'm content and happy, but also too comfortable.
Anything can become a hamster wheel. It's easy to choose what you know, to stay safe, to keep your feathers smooth, to avoid feeling fear in your belly.
And sometimes I wonder (worry) if I'm content or just apathetic.
But I do love my life. I am in love with my life. I'm in Ireland now and it's immensely beautiful—everything I've been looking for these past weeks. I have been waiting and waiting to arrive here. At first, Dublin was making me feel haggard so I vanished to Howth for a day and ran through the heath and ate hummus on the cliffs and hiked along the shore and climbed through the rocks and I was smiling and breathing and here. Humbled with gratitude. Relieved. Present. Connected. There's a simplicity to days like these that I've been missing.
Oh but I'm eager for what's next.
I'm eager to get back to my mountains, camera in hand.
Self portraits in Howth, near Dublin. March 2018.