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  • Normally, I love being with people.

    I love parties,
    cities,
    bars,
    festivals,
    fairs,
    laughter,
    conversation.

    I love feeling like I'm part of the activity, that I belong in the middle of everything that is happening around me; engaged in the chaos.

    But lately, I love being with myself.

    I love gardening,
    running,
    sitting on patios,
    daydreaming,
    napping.

    I find myself seeking solitude; time away from everyone and everything where I can turn off my brain. I have been getting lost in my own mind; embracing the silence.

    More and more I want to be outside, in the sunshine, not thinking - just existing. Running until the thoughts have all tumbled from my head onto the path, leaving me with only my breathing; one foot in front of the other. Gardening until my feelings have been worked out of my skin and into the soil. Laying in the grass, praying until my fears are blown away with the breeze and I nap in the warmth of the sun.

    At first I was concerned: am I withdrawing? is there something wrong with me? have I changed? But at the end of the day, this just reinforces my belief that I am a walking dichotomy; never fully satisfied, always hungry for more, different. And maybe that's okay. Maybe I can live life like that.

    Peace and chaos,
    solitude and friends,
    intense and calm,
    silly and serious,
    home and travel,
    emotional and cerebral,
    belonging and adventure.
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