Four months previous, I had jetted off into the sunset (it was actually) and departed on a journey that would change things, yet again, in unexpected ways.
And on my return, I found myself in places that had occupied me in the days previous to me departing.
As I sat on Bevan’s porch, I waited for the removal van to approach to pick up my contents that I had placed there four months previous.
As I moved into the same apartment block I departed, I pressed 1 instead of 2.
And now I sit at my desk, and as much as the speakers are new, the environment isn’t.
My brain has shifted, my soul shaken by the journey for a number of reasons. My outlook wider, my steps stronger, my confidence higher.
And then I go to those moments on the porch, the lift, the cafe downstairs, the bakery around the corner, conversations with friends and families and my yukka on the porch and I think to myself,
I was just here what seems like yesterday.
And that ladies and gents is the moment. The powerful moment to moment. Things move so quickly, with such force, that when you get to collect, they all add up to moments.
I suppose the question and answer session begins
Were all those moments worth it?
Was I someone I wanted to be?
Will I be someone I want to become?
And there’s the kick. Can I define myself moment to moment to become the person I wish to be?
8 months and counting. Things are about to get very interesting.