Hello. I'm still here. Somewhere.
An early fall storm has set in, so I am nestled within a blanket, within the warm cosy walls of my home, watching from the inside out. I'm in a cocoon within a cocoon. I believe that is why I love storms so much. They evoke a desire to feel safe and warm and dry. Perhaps I seek the illusion of safety a little too much. Maybe I don't explore enough of the world around me, or take enough risks. Will I regret this one day when I am old and wrinkly, wrapped in a blanket out of necessity rather than comfort?
I've always been a little bit afraid. My earliest memories seem to orbit around the same themes... the world was just too big. There were too many people, there was too much noise, too many demands and too many frightening scenarios that kept toying with my imagination, even my dreams.
Nothing really horrible happened. I think I was just born this way. And maybe that is ok. Surely, we are not all destined to do great things. Maybe my destiny is tucked within the quieter nooks and crannies of this fast-paced, ever-spinning, rapidly changing world. I still believe there is an important place for me within the chaos. I don't need a large space. Small and intimate would do just beautifully.
Have I written about this before? Many times, I think. Writing about it seems to help me find acceptance in the things about myself that I feel are out of the norm. Once my thoughts morph into words, everything seems to feel more solid somehow.
Time for a cup of tea and a little storm watching. The world and all its chaos can keep up its antics... outside my window.