I don’t write so much anymore since we have been back home. Sadly, it doesn’t come as naturally. During the trip, I would sit behind the laptop and it would just come pouring out. Now, I still sit behind the laptop, but to take care of business, to get things done. I could write, but I have more urgent things to do — often, always.
And it is not only work that keeps me from writing — when we were travelling I had more inspiration. Not because we were doing a million amazing things. We would often stay for weeks at the same place, just living the local life. No glitter or crazy adventure — just life. But my mind and my heart were open. I was taking everything in and pouring it all out on the page. Back in our normal life, in a busy city, it is more about shielding myself against the noise — but that means I don’t get to hear the melody either.
Closed, protective, I am leaving everything out. Offering my little free time to close family and friends only. Good friends who will challenge, support and empathise. A close circle that is getting smaller as the years go by, like my shrinking universe. People are not different elsewhere — we all have our share of joys, worries, dreams. But when we travel, when we enter a new community, we are different. We are willing to open up, listen and share with strangers. How very sad that I cannot do the same when I am home. Something just shuts down inside of me and all I want to do is retreat back to my cocoon.
Like an old friendship that has been neglected, I can feel inspiration slowly slipping away from me. Please stay — I promise, I will do better. I will take better care of you, I will be more present. I need you though, I cannot do it without you. I miss this, I miss you. Just writing, letting the ideas flow, having epiphanies as I do so.
