hurtling

hello people

i am a hurtler. baby is a hurtler.

and i have been hurtling through and time and space and all the shifts in between. nobody does it to baby. only i do it to me. making me hurtle.

so i hurtled my way out of pom and png through a packing and partying frenzy and now landed in sydney where i have been hurtling all around, mostly taking care of mymama who lives on the other side of the civilized universe and is recovering from pneumonia (doesnt help that she is a cranky invalid) and hurtling into house-hunting for both her and me (absolutely crazy) and hurtling into this job in the new place.

hurtling.

been hurtling through my entire adult life. and. am. learning its not so fun after all, not so necessary, not so rewarding. not all the time, not always, maybe not even most of the time. i know why it was - all part of ricebags need to be and do A Million Plus Amazing so that her life meant something in the way noone else believes but only she does because her silly Center says her body dont have worth unless its some kind of Super.

but i am starting to see that some (maybe most) of that hurtling is just Exotic Filler (not an oxymoron) - something to fill up all the wide open spaces in between the love, which is why i always say i need that gap-time so badly but paradoxically the truth is i never allow it to myself.

so i am slowing down now. concentrating on the things that matter. one. at. a. time.

and sydney lovers - i havent been ignoring you. i been focusing on mymama. and i can make a promise that my time is your time once the dust has settled.

xx