you’re obsessed with finding a new brain but what you need is a new body it feels your brain has lived a thousand lives before —rilo kiley, “accidental deth”
I feel sort of guilty these days because I’m not working. I am living the temporary housewife life until I get a job (although I’m already doing some freelance hair) and it feels weird, man. I’m not the kind of person who is good at not working, I feel bad and useless and like I’m not contributing and it makes me anxious which makes me less great at the whole getting back into working thing. It’s a vicious cycle. I am trying to remember that I have only lived in this new country, even if it is “just Canada” as people have told me, for a bit over a week, that I still need to be settled and do a bunch of routine things and really and truly unpack and just get normalized and yes, I repeat, settled. I made a joke at the border while signing official paperwork about the fact that the government considered me a settler made me feel like I was on the Oregon Trail but just Zach laughed.
I used to be the kind of person who not only did work out but enjoyed it; it got me out of funks. Life and stress and grief and so many excuses got in the way of me doing what not only was good for me but what felt good. Since I’ve moved, I’ve found that I not only felt at peace but I felt ready for good things again; today I walked, I jogged, I even ran a bit for the first time in a long time and I felt exhausted and dead and alive and great all at once as I was lying there letting it drizzle on me in High Park, I realized how lucky I was to not only be where I am right now but just to be alive in the way I am now as opposed to a few years ago.
Eventually, I got up and wandered around some more paths, going deep into the thick of the trees and right in some of the most beautiful green space I’ve ever seen. I spotted a maple tree or what I assumed to be one because of the leaf shape but I doubted myself because the trunk seemed so skinny, not nearly as authoritative a trunk as I expected; I texted Ian a photo and he confirmed that it was a maple. I gathered different leaves and sat in a field of flowers trying to narrow down what they all were and breathing in what felt to be such good clean air right in the middle of this city I now live in. I haven’t felt that grateful in a while, grateful for a body I can shape into whatever what feels right, for this many trees and flowers and plants literally a two minute walk from my front door, for a little taste of being a temporary housewife, for amateur botany, for the opportunity each day brings to better learn how to be instead of always how to do.
(These feel like little spaces for mantras or prayers lately, a place to put not only what’s happened and happening but my greatest hopes and good thoughts towards what I wish for most: a good life.)