A life in motion...

Minimalist water colour
Breakfast sandwich

Today I woke up at 5 am to winds howling outside of my bedroom window. To the creaking and moaning of window frames and relentless rain hammering against the glass – A cacophony of noise that would make the most languid and listless individual wake up. Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, while I was making coffee with one eye closed as the world outside my windows seemed to scream 'go back to sleep', I decided to sit down and start writing this post.

I am still not sure why I have returned to blogging after years and years and whether this stint will last. I don't dare to promise weekly updates (I have made this mistake before) or to have my life become an open book for everyone to read on the internet. However, I'm a writer, and writers tend to crave for their writing to be read. Don't get me wrong, plenty of my articles are available online and due to some exciting developments in my life, I am hopeful that the world will have access to even more of my work, but there's something luxuriously self-indulgent about blogging. The assumption that someone will take the time out of their day to read my unfiltered ramblings about mundane things and maybe enjoy it.

I blame the past week's events for the sudden Proustian word-vomit today. My life has been turned upside-down. Moving to a new flat in London (and dealing with all of the accompanying stresses) was topped off with a professional opportunity meaning I'll be relocating to Stockholm for the next couple of months. I am obviously thrilled, but as soon as the buzz has subsided, l instantly focus on issues and anxieties. Reverting to long-distance in the middle of a pandemic, spending no more than two weeks in the new flat, and the natural nervousness that accompanies being new in the office has my emotional state seriously scrambled.

With that said, I can't wait. I'm so ready to try something new – Revving at the start-line just waiting for the starter pistol to go off. To have a reason to get dressed in something other than lounge-wear in the morning (although I've immensely enjoyed the knitted ski-leggings pictured here lately).

Change is scary, whether it's good or bad, but it's necessary – Don't you think?

  • Life

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