A Greek philosopher once said. Easier said than done, or perhaps it was because he was a man, devoid of the vicissitudes and fluctuations of womanhood. Pondering on the rhythm of separation and attachment and only knowing true belonging which arises from distance.
I have been here a week. At first ecstatic from the feeling of freedom and the simplicity of choosing my own direction even for the shortest of time.. No expectations, choosing when to get up, and greet the dawn, just me and a mountainside. Painting all day, choosing only to eat peaches for dinner. Lying in bed listening to cicadas. A thunderstorm and just me in my underwear, a mountain, lightening and rain. Quite ecstatic. In fact, so happy, I didn’t notice that the place i was staying was idyllic in one sense but also hopping with fleas, and the beams above my head slowly being eaten by creatures (some kind of insect or grub with huge teeth,) day in, day out. Apparently very common in Spain. The sound is almost as bad as someone loudly eating crisps in the seat behind at the cinema!
So, I have moved on to a friend’s house next to the Rio Chico. Thankfully clean, light and made of concrete..
Then a phone call home and the sound of my son’s voice has me in floods. How is it possible to love so much? Just ask a mother.
The heat is intensely draining and I don’t have my usual energy.. Tomorrow, as they say, is another day.