Today was a day of much waiting on trains and waiting on trains some more. I'm in official mourning for the existence of winter, particularly this winter. My nails are painted dark, I push snooze at least 5 times every morning, come straight home after work and am refusing to exercise until it's warm enough to run outside. It's felt freeing to resign to the reality that very few things are redeeming at this point in the year.
I'm officially going to South America for 2 weeks in May, and I am so freakin' excited. My main mission will entail: 1) getting tan on the beaches of Rio and 2) finding myself a Latin lover to bring back as a souvenir. What can I say, I'm an ambitious gal.
I've been trying to fight a disconnected feeling lately. Sometimes I feel like there is a deep, underlying resistance to my truly settling in this city. It's more the sense that I never feel completely "at home." I'll have these moments where I stop and think about how far away I am from where I grew up and my family and year-round warm weather and people who say "y'all" and people who care more about high school sports than politics. I worry that I hold back to0 much here and try so hard to exude a certain image that I've lost my own in the process. It's a legit fear, I think.
There's this word that comes to mind a lot every since reading about it last year. It's a Hebrew word called "T'shuva", and it means both repentance and returning home (as in to old customs and values). The author Rob Bell talks about it as a call to be who we were created to be, our "first self" so to speak. I like that. I want that. I need that.
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