Goodbye February
Every few days I wander back to Subsatck like a gremlin because all the words that people write somehow infuse my soul with the ability to keep writing or keep trying. Now more than ever I have the time to sit at my desk and let the sounds of my mechanical keyboard take me away to the land where the words flow easily. Still, they don’t because I have a giant brain that enjoys overthinking, second-guessing, and questioning if now is the right time to do such things. I have lots to talk about, I have never been one to not have an opinion on things and yet the thought of sharing these things makes me want to hide under my covers like a little child afraid of a thunderstorm hoping the lighting and thunder will pass.
Who does not get imposter syndrome when doing these things? When we look at the words written or typed and wonder who on earth will care about what little ole me has to say? In moments like this, I recall what a friend said to me years and years ago when I was having quite a severe moment of stage fright. He looked at me and said “All you are doing, you are doing for an audience of one” and something in me settled. That phrase has been branded on my mind for years now and it has always settled something in me whenever fear or anxiety has tried to get the best of me. To some it may not make sense, who does anything for an audience of one after all… but to me, it shifts my perspective and it helps me straighten my spine against the beating drum of anxiety.
And so we say goodbye to February.
It’s been a month since I moved back to my home country of Singapore. A month since my world axis has shifted and I am trying to recentre it into something I can recognise again. And every day since I have woken up wondering what on God’s green earth do I do now? Everything about my life has done a 180 and I am trying to find myself in this new space and time.
I am used to waking up in a quiet house that wakes when I do. Slow mornings with coffee in bed. Watching the trees outside my window sway in the summer breeze. But now that I live with my family again, everyone is up and about before I am. The coffee machine running at 7 am, dishes in the sink, footsteps on the stairs, the front door opening and closing as people go about their day, their morning routines centred and fixed and me just trying to find my little slice of the morning amidst their daily movements.
I had pretty steady work back in Sydney, working in the events industry, learning and climbing slowly from a team lead to a manager. But here in Singapore, I spend my days reading and watching TV shows I’ve been meaning to watch. I am doing so well reading this year though, which I am quite proud of because last year’s reading was utterly hilarious. I hear my mum take coaching calls outside my door. My sister heading out for work and coming home late. My dad clacking away downstairs or doing one of his many exercises to keep himself healthy and I wonder what I am doing here…
Here in this house that has always felt like home, but still does not feel like home just yet. In this country that is so familiar and yet so foreign to me. This place moves at a different pace than I am used to. The cadence and rhythm are something I have forgotten about after spending 10 years away.
February has felt like a whole year… or 6 months packed in 28 days.
And I am learning to wait. To wait for the right opportunity that comes, to not rush into the next thing. Learning that rest is okay and even necessary. I am learning to listen for that little whisper that says “Now is the time, here is the opportunity”. I am learning that even though this country moves the way that it does, it does not mean I need to be swept up in its tide. I am not stranded and I am not caught in the riptide of this place, I am allowed to take things at my own pace. I am learning that sometimes, the timeline that I make for myself is not helpful and that surrender, whether it is done willingly or not, is holy.
MARCH has arrived and with it a sense of something new, if only I have the ears to listen… let us hope that I do.
xoxo
For my audience of one.
