what a year, a decade... a decade plus one year

As an early riser, I often find it fortuitous to live in the USA as a European because it means that my friends in other parts of the world are awake when I wake up… so, even if insomnia strikes, I am able to use the time to interact with friends I have not seen for a while. Being on holiday in South Africa means that when I awake, the world is asleep. However, this has a beauty and advantage of its own. It truly means quiet time and peace. The only sound is that of birds singing. Being in South Africa rips me wide open like a leg scraping concrete highway in a motorcycle accident… because I see so much of myself in my parents. I see what I love and what I hate. I feel my dad’s movements and expressions in my own and I see my mother’s face when I look at myself in photographs. Here in the upper business deck of an Emirates Air Bus, having just sat in the onboard bar with a wealthy gentleman from Boston (Peter… creator of TV car shows… and I must look that up later) somewhere over the Black Sea and a place reportedly called ‘Batman’, I am once more free to be myself, the self I have striven to be for so many years, and not to merely be a product of my history. That is not to say that I am not proud of my history, I am… and I am very proud of my parents, but I feel a desperate need to be a communicator, a traveller, an empathetic individual with individual views and choices. Here, in the air, approaching Bulgaria, I sip a Stella and I think of another Stella. I miss that connection, that laugh, that smile. Alas, she is happily in love now and long gone.
And so, I get back to Cambridge, spend one night in my own bed, wake up, travel to the airport and fly to Miami. Bleeding money… breathing alcohol fumes… meeting people from around the world… dancing… swimming… enjoying the beauty of everything from Little Havana to the rooftop pools of Brickell as I reflect upon a year including travel to Madrid, Montreal, New Orleans… a year in which I got my Green Card and my American driver’s license. What a time. It seems I started life late and, what an amazing time the last decade +1 year has been.
I remain grateful.









Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

a bright sunny day in Spain (ten years ago)

Image
  He lay alone in the darkened room. The blinds were closed to the maximum in order to block out any potential light breaking through from the dazzling Spanish sun. It was the day after his birthday. He had spent the previous day with his girlfriend. But that now seemed an eternity away. Lifetimes had passed since then. It was a Tuesday morning and he simply did not know if it would be possible to get out of bed and go to work. Life seemed empty. Everything was lost to him except the deep throbbing pain reminding him that he was alive. To be alive like this… in this space of black desolation and despair… was it even to be alive? He had found something, something worthwhile and meaningful… something that brought light and hope, but it was now lost. It was inevitable. It seemed as if it was surely, at the very least, the end of his Spanish adventure.
Read more

European trip, April 2024

Image
The journey began on Saturday morning. A short walk across the street to the DART train station where I would catch the train to DFW Airport. I reached the airport in 20 minutes and then discovered I had 2 minutes to make a 7-minute walk to catch the next train that went from DFW to Fort Worth. If I missed it, I would have a full hour to sit at the station and await the next. With my backpack and suitcase, I sprinted to Terminal B and made it to the second train in just under 2 minutes, boarding a matter of seconds before the train departed. I sat back and relaxed, fascinated by this part of the Dallas Metroplex that I had not before seen. Everything was green and delightful. It was like stepping back into a time when everything was cared for and clean and somehow innocent. Old trains exceptionally maintained adorned the stations we passed through, and conductors in Super Mario uniforms collected tickets whilst guiding and informing customers how to reach their destinations.  ...
Read more

dedicated to bad writing

Image
Writing is a window to the mind. A true view of the full person behind the words. Face to face, when speaking, an individual can come across as calm and collected, they smile and use charm… they pretend to be what they want, and they wear a mask to disguise what lies inside. When they write, it pours out… their inner darkness and angry and emotional despair. For some, it also reveals their grammatical chaos… often caused by simple and pure blind fury. Writing is a powerful tool to use… it is also a powerful tool to be used against you if you are only a good person behind your mask.                   Communication in all walks of life is vitally important. In the professional realm, it is required to be seen as credible… it’s about timing as well as delivery and audience. As a leader, it is absolutely crucial. A leader firing off spouts of furious phrases that are poorly worded and contain grammatical er...
Read more