|Image from here|
As I left the house this morning, I realised I should have taken a coat, as my breath rose in plumes as I hurried to the tube. It felt cold, and fresh, and crisp, and good. I wrapped my scarf closer around me, hurrying to the warmth of the station.
Last week was spent in Rhodes. The weather was glorious, the company (Mama CupandSaucer) was phenomenal, and I spent the week unwinding, unknotting, calming, and returning to myself.
And then I came back to earth with the most phenomenal thud. Work this week has been extraordinary. I've had to put walls back up to maintain some semblance of sense. Numbers have been blocked from my mobile phone. The knots I spent a week removing are coming back.
This year has been... there are actually no words to explain what this year has been. For various family members, it has been the ultimate annus horribilis. Deaths, separations, depression, illness. It's all happened this year.
I was hoping the autumn might be a fresh start. And while today started with yet more challenging news, I'm determined that it still will be. I am working to remove toxicity from my life, to keep moving forwards, to enter the colder, darker days with a smile on my face.
I am entering the later stages of this year with an improved awareness of who I am. Who I want by my side, in my team, fighting my corner. What I want. Where I see myself going. When these things might happen.Why I'm here. How I can get there.
Alice is rising from the ashes, yet again. And as I look back on who I was at this time last year, and think about who I am now- there's no comparison. I'm fuller (though thinner), more whole (though with people missing), more myself. There's a line, from somewhere, which says I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be. And while I try to remember who I have been and where I have come from, it's true. I have lost touch with people I used to be. I remember them, affectionately, like the primary school friends you swapped friendship bracelets with- but I no longer am them, and they are no longer me.
But I'm here. Returning to London. Returning to reality. Back to earth with a bump. But standing tall, feeling strong, feeling supported.