From The Pages Of My Journal
Surviving Quarantine Is Surviving Myself
3.8 (March 8th 2020)
I am in Amsterdam, avoiding the very things that made me in New York. At home, my life was work and sleep and sleeping with [redacted]. I still sleep, but I haven’t spent much time doing either of the other two things. The way I see it, I’m here to relax. With work covered & with strained face-to-face communication being stretched to much less over text, time zones apart, I am truly on my own.
I have been very alone during this journey, and unlike I suspected, it has brought me peace. I feel so safe with myself, as I grow to trust my own intentions. I am beginning to see that I am where I need to be, and I will make my way to wherever I desire if it is truly meant for me. The power is mine, as my life is under my own control. Even in circumstances that are external, with autonomy, I control my reactions and through strength I move forward in a way that’s right for me.
What comes next? Shall I return to New York, what lifestyle awaits me? I plan to reprioritize anything that allows me to balance my energy and free my mind. Closer bonds with those I hold close to me. More so, a closer bond with which I hold myself. Taking long walks in the daylight until my body aches for rest. These are the things that fulfill me, and these are the dreams I will chase.
No longer will I torture myself with overcommunicating needs and with becoming more important to those who make me feel unloved. We all want something; the new question is this: are our needs compatible?
7.4 (July 4th 2020)
Happiness held in the body is a keen reminder of success, a miracle in its own right. When you are able to release the tension of stress that serves to weigh you down, there is only lightness.
After finding freedom, I felt stuck with a sense of shame for being unable to follow through on my thoughts. I felt bound by the uncertainty that comes with promises of an unsettled future.
I have always looked forward to those stickers pock-marking my calendar, telling me of events that await me with open arms. These colorful squares plotting time, they keep me alive. Again, it is difficult to look toward new beginnings from the mouth of an uncertain path.
Amsterdam was fire, blown out by wind on a young evening. Extinguished in the night and postdated by ashes that remind you of what had come.
Now home has become a resting place — where I take those ashes and I spread them, smudging my space with energy that excites my enthusiasm to take another breath. That brings me to a mindscape where I am willing to accept the unknown — where I live to experience life in the now & where I can pursue hope.
