Time flies.
The first part of my Euro-adventure is nearly over. Tomorrow at 630 pm Central European Time (that’s +6 to those on the East Coast) I’ll board a plane to London. I’m always amazed at how quickly my time in Berlin flies. And how easily I find settling into a routine with John and Aimee.
To be sure, I miss my desk and my home life. I miss the freedom to roam as I need to and the autonomy of my own space.
But it’s an even trade-off to be in Europe.
England, though, will be something else. I’ll be bouncing around the country. My weekends will involve trips to visit friends (in Sheffield, in Brighton and maybe a third location to visit another Loveland-ite), and my weeks will involve city runs, cafes (Bar Italia in Soho) and visiting with playwrights at The Soho Theater.
It’s a radically different lifestyle than here. One I will need to adjust to quickly if I’m to keep my running life together.
I am not worried about such things, though. I’ve never believed that time was a limiting factor in life. We make time for that which is important.
Maybe I’m too rigid with this idea of time. I can’t say. What I know is this: I will never utter the phrase “the timing isn’t right” because I don’t believe that. The timing is what you make of it, and I can tell very much about you (and I) as a person based upon how you (and I) use that timing.
With that in mind, I’ve set up lunches with several friends – many of whom I only see during South by Southwest Interactive – and planned writing time in order to prepare the documents I’ll need in order to (try to) secure a writing residency somewhere.
My time will be spent on those who have invested in me and in the things I want my life to be about. In the end, it’s really that simple.
It’s invigorating, though, this travel and these plans. I’m tired certainly, but I’m also alive. There are new possibilities on the horizon, the kind that I have hoped would appear. I have envisioned my life to be a certain way and there are ripples in the lifestream that suggest I may soon have the opportunity to experience some of that.
With my friends. With my travel. With my writing.
This is Year 3 of sobriety, in which I prepare for the rest of my life.
