The aromas of Santa Barbara on a bike ride home from Yoga Soup:
Ocean. Chicken. Thai. Flowers – what is blooming that is this fragrant in October? Bleach. More Thai food. Pine.
A man steps out of his car and into the bike lane. He gives me a huge, genuine smile as I swerve around him, and it is as infectious as the flu my coworker brought to work last week. So open. So welcoming. So inevitable. Why don’t I smile like that at strangers just for existing? His smile infects my visage for three blocks.
I telecommuted today. Working from home feels like freedom in a way working from the flat in London never did. London felt like quicksand. Santa Barbara feels like organically composted soil. THINGS GROW HERE, is what I’m saying.
My spiritual adviser told me to stop trying to process what happened to me there, but I feel like there are some decent stories. I just don’t know how to tell them yet.
He asked me why I was trying to absorb the emotions from months ago when I should be letting them go. Let them go! Why do I want that terror, that confusion, that impotence inside me? It makes so much sense, I laughed when he told me I’d been experiencing the world in the exact opposite way I’m meant to experience it.
Don’t bring it in. Let it go.
:/
How are you doing?
Pardon my grammar. This message was sent from my iPad.