Friday, December 31, 2010

A dark night of the soul

There are these days of hollowness, you know? 

A day here, where everything falls down and down inside me and nothing reaches the bottom and I never fill up.

A day there, that seems magnified and concentrated, every minute an infinite vacuum, every word an assault, as if every grain of sand in the desert is rubbing off my top layer of skin and exposing the soul underneath. The skin a little peeled back.

You can tell when I have these days. Even if I didn't declare them, like I am now, you just have to look at my language, which becomes increasingly more florid as I search for ways to bring this feeling to life before you, so that you can glimpse, even briefly, the sheer futility I feel even trying to do so.

It's at times like this that I step outside myself and think: what am I doing? What am I doing here, 12,000 miles from home, from My One True Love, from the Sister Of My Heart, from my parents, my friends, the pussins? What on earth possessed me?

I know that for me, part of being an adventurer means balancing - and accepting - these days. That having the courage (or foolishness) to step off a cliff into the unknown means being prepared to face the ground rushing up at you.

I love stepping off into the unknown. I love it - the thrill, the excitement, the surge of feeling that I'm doing something amazing. And so these days are just as much part of me as the inner desire that sends me looking for that feeling.

So I continue.

I drag myself through them, knowing that tomorrow, or the day after, it'll be as if they never happened. And that in the remembering, it make the present sweeter.


Jennie said...

Even when you write about feelings of futility it's clear what an optimist you are. Yep, it'll balance out. Some days adventures suck. You can be 99.9% certain that this time next year your surroundings will be nothing like they are now.

Hope you complete your catharsis soon and feel ready to tackle the world again.

Heather said...

I hate the homesickness that comes with travel. For me I'm not sure which is worse...knowing that I just need 30 secs at home to solve it or the horrible-ness of the feeling itself. I'm assuming you have made at least one friend over there so give them a call and catch up for coffee/drinks/dinner. I know that caffine/Alcohol/food won't make the feeling go away in the long term, but it may help in the short term. Or just take comfort in the fact that we miss you here in Oz and look forward to hearing all the stories (again) when you get back. In the meantime we love your stories and photos.