Im sitting in my room and Im stuck.

Pre-warning: this next post is a mush of all my thoughts. Please excuse the all-over-the-place nature. Rated for mature audience (patient, endearing and slightly mad like me).




Well well well.


Life.


I'm a bit overwhelmed. I figured, after being home three days, I should probably sit down and start to sort out "where to" in life now, with consideration of a year abroad. I've been sitting here for over an hour now and this is all I've got so far. It's a bit more daunting than it sounds.


You see, in the one meter radius of where I'm sitting in my room, there are boundless amounts of materials cheerfully gesturing to me to use and embrace them; a sewing machine and fabric, an uncanny amount of delectable books, craft and jewelry supplies, my laptop, note writing materials, the Bible, my vintage Swedish suitcase open and overflowing with collections of postcards, letters, journals and bits and bobs from my year abroad.


In amongst these delights are letters, clothes, dishes and the like waiting patiently to be addressed and sorted. My gorgeous floral tea cup sits next to me, with an empty Lemon and Ginger sachet looking like how I'm feeling - saturated, drenched, cold, tired and a tad dull at the same time, waiting for a refill of hot refreshing goodness, but kind of feeling a bit helpless and heavy at the same time.

In addition, a beautiful bunch of daffodils and associated spring-time glories, seem to be dying to burst out of the glass vase they are in, which sits only centimeters from my hands, and in turn send whiffs of strong perfume my way which permeates through my airways, filling me with almost contradicting feelings of joy and nostalgia.

So too does the music streaming from my laptop. Absurdly enough, the tune "Homesick" from Norwegian indie group Kings of Convenience, rather paradoxically fills my room. 

Its raining outside; typical Auckland weather in winter. Typical weather in Spring. Even in Autumn. Oh, and Summer. Welcome home. My hair's wet. Im cold, even though the central heating has just started pumping tasty warm air up through the vents under my feet and I'm wearing a wooly dressing gown over winter clothes. My trademark look I'm unashamedly happy to be flaunting again. The buildings in Sweden were way warmer than here, making it unnecessary to own a dressing gown it seemed. 

Its strange having my Swedish life - music, clothes, nick nacks and so on, mixed into my New Zealand life.  Even though I'm wearing the same clothes, listening to the same music, writing on the same laptop as I did in my room in Sweden just over a week ago, I feel so different. I don't get how that can be.

So as you can see, right now, my senses are all being utilised completely, my what-should-i-think-about-or-not filter has turned off completely and my imagination has run so wild that i now sit almost still in numbness. There you go. I'm overwhelmed. Im over-stimulated and in turn, I'm kind of annoyed and feeling extremely uneasy.

Still doesnt make sense? Probably not.


Well, with what is around me, hours, days, months and even years worth of activities can be produced. And that's it - its brings to the surface bigger questions: exactly which activities do I want to pursue, in what shape or form and how should these be done with the perspectives, skills, passions and desires I've grabbed onto or revised since I've been away? These things around me signify much more than what they just are in object form - its what they represent to me and what I represent in using them. In essence, what they can offer me is in turn part of the satisfaction I can offer myself, depending on what option i choose. And if I can feel this way about things that are only within a metre radius of me, how do i fit in everything else?


So somehow weaved into this are thoughts around what job I should get when I graduate, when exactly should I do my interior design diploma, when and how should I move out of home and other seemingly large "what next" questions, on a very practical level, keep entering into my mind.


So is this what they call jet-lag or is it re-adjustment to life back home after a year away? A mix perhaps. I was semi- warned about this unease before I got back, but chose to ignore that it would happen to me. 


FINE - I'll give myself time to settle in.


On that note a nice meditation whilst tucked up in bed sounds like the answer.


Now THATS a good idea if I say so myself.