Now for something bloggers are allowed to do every once in a while, i.e., write something so about themselves without sparing a thought to their readers that it’s as indulgent as eating a small box of chocolates alone in a roomful of chocolate lovers. I allow myself to do this at least once a year and the time is now.
Ever since last week, or maybe it started when I wasn’t looking, I feel I’ve entered another world, that I’m inhabiting a new space and time in which my thought life, my psyche, is undergoing a sea-change, that I’m not really *here.*
These are the symptoms:
- There’s an invisible wall of glass between me and people I talk to, a detachment that wasn’t there before
- Despite this, I seem to sense things on a deeper level now, in others, in myself, and suddenly, I find myself able to seize the moment. This especially in starting or steering conversations to interesting temporary conclusions. This is quite a feat, considering I have perfect balance—that is, the ability to stand while putting one foot in my mouth.
This has led to a certain randomness in how my days unfold. And it’s altering my perception of how I live my days.
I don’t quite understand it. My mind is in a fog that alternates with a clearness that is startling.
The only thing I don’t understand is this sudden fatigue that overwhelms the physique. I ran recently, but in a state where my mind was in fourth gear and my body refused to go any faster than second. It’s how you feel when you’re in a suspended state of falling ill.
At the same time, it feels like a state of grace.
Ever feel this way? Leave a comment.