That feeling before a leap.
Driving away from the post office, I felt a fire in me. I had dropped off my passport application and I was heading home. Driving the same car on the same highways and it all felt monumental and new. My passport expired in 2015. I hadn’t used it since…2005? I forgot to check what my last trip was before the post office employee put it in an envelope and sent it off. That was a lifetime ago. I was living in NYC and traveled for work and for play to Hong Kong and Japan. Epic trips made by someone else. I live in a different city on a different coast, have different people in my life. And though I feel like I’m traveling the same internal roads that catch me like tires in a rut, I know that I’m actually on a spiral staircase moving forward and onward. I’m worlds away from who I was before. I know I have grown. I feel it in my belly.
When doing means not doing.
All I want to do is pretty much everything. I want to work on my book, I want to work on my website, I want to do a watercolor sketch, I want to do that linoleum block print I have had on my mind for about a month. I can barely move with all the things that want to come out of me—it’s clogging up the works here. Desire. It can really ramp up the pressure and make it so nothing actually gets done. And then I get frustrated because I can’t find the outlet for my creativity which now has the power of a tidal wave and is destroying my sense of peace.
