speaking of crazy...

...i'm all over on wordpress now. It's my permanent home. Visit me?

go crazy.

I was spying on Facebook today. Be warned: I do this A LOT. This time though I was spying on a former co-worker's photos of her new life in Nairobi. "I wanna do that! Or, something like that," I said (in my head). Something where I pack up, leave behind everything, and fearlessly start something new. And she's in her 30s--like me! This further adds to the growing body of evidence that you in fact do not have to be a 20-something with a pack strapped to your back to go crazy and start something new. 

I've gone crazy before. Just not on the Nairobi level. Not even close to the Nairobi level.

I continued to skim through her albums, half curious, half concerned about whether she'd settled in and was enjoying life there. By the way, if she ever somehow found this post, I'd be partly flattered (she found my blog!) and partly embarrassed (she happens to be one of my dozens of FB friends I don't have a real friendship with.) I'd post one of her beautiful, green, palm-treed photos here, if...well, if I was completely shameless. I'm shameless. Just not completely. Not yet.

I want to plan something crazy. I have given myself a deadline of two more years in my city. Two more years to grow up. Two more years to settle in and enjoy.

x

p.s. This is my 2nd day of posting, and I have little to say, but I'm happy to be getting my groove back. Now off to figure out how to add those little follow-me-like-me widgets.

i came back.

to reclaim my "roots." well, that's a lofty expression and not at all entirely true. Here's what really happened:

I was sitting on the subway, chatting with a friend about starting a new blog. Something that incorporates my day-to-day hodgepodge with pieces of my city that make me stop. open my eyes. drop my jaw. reconsider why-the-hell-i'm-here-in-the-first-place. As I write this, I fill ready to burst at the prospect of coming back to something I once gave my heart to daily. But back to my story. As I was telling the story to my friend of wanting to start something new,  something great...it dawned on me that I had something great already HERE. My something old, so to speak. I had love here already. Large amounts of it. Truth. Beauty. Happiness. Pain. Reflection. Energy. All that here, if I wanted it. And to leave it for dead...well, a waste beyond tragic. Pardon the melodrama. If you love something, you always love it. And if it serves a purpose in your life, you welcome it back into your life, in some form or another. When you're ready. I (think I) am.

I'm going to unpack now, lay out my stuff, take inventory, and start new—or start old. And I might need a fresh coat of paint. Stick with me, if you like.
x

p.s. This is the most beautiful thing i've seen all day.