Almost gone..

This morning I woke up and thought, "There's no way I can finish packing by 1pm". I arrived at this realization after hitting the snooze button a few times. I must've called the moving people and changed my pick up time to 2pm tomorrow while half asleep, because I woke up an hour later with a call to confirm the time change.

I'm a really bad procrastinator. In the past, I used to actually meet deadlines. As I've grown older, I get closer to the deadline.. and one day I discovered the fine art of pushing back deadlines and getting extensions thereby enabling my procrastination even more. I think this coincided with my realization of my personal agency.

Right now I sit in the middle of a room that is as cluttered as my brain. Lately I haven't been feeling so well, and whenever my body feels physically sick, my mind starts going in circles. The more unhealthy I am, the more my brain collapses on itself with convoluted, tangled thoughts. This makes me realize that thinking too much, something I used to identify with, extends from an unhealthy place. Lately I've tried my best to curb my over-thinking, but one part of me can't detach from it. I wish I could hire a house keeper for my brain.

Part of my reluctance to pack probably has its roots in my reluctance to let go of this period of my life. I know that when I leave, I'll be saying goodbye to something I'll never have again, yet another moment that's beautiful preserved in memory- a moment that can never be re created, and I'll miss these smells one day, the thoughts I believed to be true, the people, my current state of being, the limbo I'm in between immaturity and maturity. I know I'll be different when I come back. Older, without a doubt- knowing that is exciting, but also sad, knowing that I'll again let go of a figment of my innocence. Though it causes me turmoil sometimes when I make dumb decisions extending from my naivety, I know I'll find that innocence sweet one day looking back, and I'll be happy that I had so much of it. Though now, it seems like a curse sometimes in a city of desensitized people.

I saw Ruthie (my Rolfer) for the last time today. She's going to India soon for 5 months with her fiance who is a music therapist. She's helped me so much over the last few months, physically, and mentally as well. I've struggled a lot and without her guidance and wise words, I would be a lot worse off. I'm a lot stronger now.

We talked today about yoga and I asked her thoughts on Bikram. I then asked her, what she thought about the term "cool" and how it came to be, and how the "coolest" people are often the worst, saddest people, and why it was that despite that, a lot of people regard them as "cool". She answered calmly: "because they're confused". She said that if I cared too much about that, then I'd lead a miserable existence. I had nothing to say after that, I went quiet and retreated into my head as I put the pieces together, that when I do care the most about superficiality, I'm the saddest and most disoriented. I realized that was my battle this year, and finally, finally, I settled into something healthy, where i value what's really meaningful in life and have detached myself from toxicity. Sometimes I look back and I see that things happened in a very good way- they all fit together in the grand scheme and sometimes the only problem is that I lose perspective that I'm actually making progress.

She told me that the early 20's is a confusing, confusing time. She told me it'll all work out in the end, and the key is to enjoy the journey and realize it's a journey. She said that she enjoyed during those times of most confusion, seeing symbols and signs when she needed them. One time she was lost in the forest and looked one way and saw a road.

I was told once, last year, "ask for a sign and you'll get one every time". I was afraid to trust those words, as sometimes we see what we want to see. I struggle between seeing a lot of meaning, and seeing chaotic randomness. It's hard work getting to be the person you want to be.

Last year this time I was itching to leave. I thought Shanghai was going to be the end all be all. I went in expecting so much. This time, I'm nervous, but I'm not expecting anything, because I don't know what to expect. This is the first time that I'll be going somewhere completely foreign, without knowing anyone.

Sometimes I wish i could go back in time and tell myself all the things that were going to happen and how to prepare myself for them, and prevent myself from doing a few things that I thought were a good idea at the time. But another part of me is glad to be who I am, mistakes and all. I've grown a whole lot from everything that has happened.