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“beautiful restlessness”

Hello World! Didja miss me? I know I’ve been MIA for sometime but am going to try to get back to chronicling my journey on a consistent basis. I make no promises except to say I will try. here we go.

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Several years ago the gentleman I was cavorting with described be as having a “beautiful restlessness.” At the time I didn’t quite understand what he meant by those words and to some extent I will never really understand what he meant as we have gone our separate ways. However the phrase keeps popping in my head and more-so in the last year or so. I wonder whether to be beautifully restless is to continuously be alone. To endlessly search for a place to belong. To eternally wonder will love find me in this city?

This year will be a dozen years since I got on a plane and flew to Parris Island to become a Marine. Sometimes I think it’s the best thing I ever did and sometimes to worst. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it. My time in the Corps helped to polish me into who I am today. It also put a few dings in my self-confidence. I struggle to write this post today as I’ve struggled since I got back from Barcelona to articulate what’s going on inside. I lacked the words because I was missing the understanding of how adrift I had become somewhere between finally finishing that degree and coming back from my second deployment. Was this the “beautiful restlessness” G-man (there is a story on this shortened nickname, perhaps I’ll tell it one day) saw and commented on? The searching for something, something to believe in, some cause to support, some passion to dive headfirst into, some love to call my own. It’s been a difficult journey to identifying that I AM searching … but for a while I did not know what I was searching for or more accurately I wasn’t willing to clear away the muck of expectations and examine what I, me, this little brown girl, from a little peninsula, in a little country near the equator really wanted from life.

I think some days I don’t dare speak it into being because many times what I have wanted was subsumed under what my circumstances would allow me to have, what I should do, what was the supposed better choice to make. I realize from a very young age what my natural instinct and curiosity led me to do was curtailed and redirected into “more appropriate” venues and expressions. That takes a toll, after a while you stop trusting your desires and curiosity, you stop yearning for things. Why bother, either they’ll be the wrong things or you won’t be good enough anyway, so just look to what is safe. I wonder is this where the “beautiful restlessness” comes into place? It’s funny (no ha ha, but more fascinating ) to me that even looking at, reading or thinking about the phrase I focus on the “restlessness” part of it rather than the descriptor of beauty. I equate restlessness as something bad or unwanted but perhaps I need to look at that again, and consider it as something that indicates a lack of stimulation. I’m not sure.

This is where I am with many things, I start thinking about it and my brain gets stuck at the opening salvo going round and round like the wheels on a bus. (yeah I know these aphorisms don’t really go together but whatevs). I think part of why I get stuck is this depression I’m dealing with. Some days are good and some are bad. On the good days I do as much as I can and on the bad days I stay in my house watching some forensic crime solving show on Netflix. It doesn’t leave much room for pondering the origin of certain attributes but now that this germ of an idea is planted I will meditate on it. Plus I’ve told y’all, so now I’ve plenty of accountability partners.

I know I’m a bit all over the place with this post, but I decided to just write it rather than wrangle my disparate thoughts into one cohesive whole. I’m not setting any goals for this, who am I kidding, I’m already thinking I need to get something up once a week if I’m returning to the blogosphere. Another thing to work on, unrealistic expectations of myself, perhaps I’ll write about that next.

How has everyone been? Can you identify with my struggles? Meet me in the comments.

Littlefoot

P.S. If you know me in off the interwebs and want to comment, don’t email or call me just leave it down below. Smooches, ‘Foot

my favorite brownies | smitten kitchen

my favorite brownies | smitten kitchen.

No words

You may have noticed that, for months now I haven’t written anything. I can blame it on being busy with school and taking care of my nephew. While true, I could have taken the time to write something. I did try several times but I had not the words to describe what I was feeling and thinking. Even now writing this, I am struggling to convey what is going on in my head. I find the words to express my thoughts out of reach and when I find the words they are not right and I spend an inordinate amount of time rearranging them so they are just right.

I’ve been back from Barcelona for just over a year and in that time I’ve been going and going without stopping for self-reflection. At times when I do reflect, I actively shy away from delving deep as I am not ready or in a place to deal with further introspection.

On the way to Oslo

On the way to Oslo

Anyhoo, I decided to pop in and let you all know I’m still here, just have nothing to share, or rather an inability to articulate what is going on in my head and life at the moment. I’ll have some time this summer to hopefully focus, reflect and move forward. I don’t have my nephew (he’s back with my brother) or school (I dropped my classes) to use as an excuse. I do have my garden but it doesn’t take all day so I can’t really use that either.

Hope you all are well.

Littlefoot

Picture Day 10: Mombassa

Mombassa Coast

Mombassa Coast

Mombassa Coast

Mombassa Coast

Mombassa Coast

Mombassa Coast

The closest I ever came to African soil. The powers that be would not let us leave the pier … some silly thing about safety and security.

Did you ever get close to place of mystery and was denied exploration?

Littlefoot