This letter is so full of life, I miss you in mine but it’s so lovely to hear how much you are exploring - about the city and about yourself. “Nothing was I walking after or into except my own feet finding their form on paths where I was glad to be a visitor in my own one short life”. Lovely lovely lovely!!!
I just spent time this morning walking in the ancient woodland across the road from my mum’s house with my visiting school friend Carolyn - one you met at our wedding. I don’t know if you spoke to her but she is an eco-warrior of the stalwart kind and has written a short story recently about the destruction of a similar woodland near her home as an activism tool - it’s based on Fantastic Mr Fox, though, and the Dahl family refused her permission to use it, sadly.
Then there’s what you’re missing about SA while not wanting to leave where you are. I can’t wait to get back to my own space with my own things around me and my own routine but also don’t want to miss out on all the opportunities for experiencing novelty that we have here. You express that dichotomy and the pleasures of seeing life through new eyes by being in a new place so clearly.
And then Tai Chi! I have been talking about taking it up in the last week after realising that our friend Kayte (the wedding celebrant) was right about it being perfect for me. I was listening to Chopin and similar beautiful piano music with my headphones, as I do every morning, and moving to it with my eyes mostly closed; sometimes I like to “play” the piano as though I can learn to play the piece through movement alone and other times I like to conduct the piece. I’ve always felt deeply embarrassed by this activity - it feels like something “normal” people don’t do so I don’t do it unless I’m certain I won’t be seen - but thanks to my excellent life coach, I’m learning to embrace my weirdness so I allowed myself to do it, knowing my mum might come downstairs. I finished my playing and conducting and turned off the music, then realised the TV was on at the other end of the open-plan living room. As I came around the corner into the area where my mum was sitting, she smiled and moved her hands the way that I had been doing and smiled broadly at me (she can’t speak any more). She’d seen me and she had loved it. I decided not only that I was safe to be weird around her at last but also that Tai Chi would be an excellent way of moving the way my body wants to but in a socially acceptable setting. Then I remembered what Kayte had said, probably a couple of years ago. I’ve resolved to find a Tai Chi class when we go home. I’m so pleased you loved it! And bewildered by what made that teacher sweat so much.
I realised while writing this that part of the reason I’ve felt stuck in the last few years and have struggled to write is because I’m worried once I start I won’t be able to stop. I’ve been shamed by every partner so far for becoming too wrapped up in my writing and not spending enough time with them. I have a feeling that won’t happen with Gabe so much but I know I can disappear to write and not come up for air for days, if I’m on a roll. I forget to eat, don’t want to sleep - writing takes over. I suspect that could go on for weeks or even months if I didn’t have someone needing me to stop. Is that how it is for you? Do you roll with it? If not, how do you put the brakes on and find balance? I’d love to know, if you’re willing to share.
Yikes! I am really behind on all my correspondence. I don't know why I didn't answer this earlier. Apologies!
The story of you conducting and your mother observing is SO wonderful. It sounds like it was a bit of a healing moment too, or am I pushing things too far?
I haven't been able to go to Tai Chi for two weeks now and I'm so bummed. But at least today's reason was a good one: a great big fat thunderstorm that felt 100% like a Pretoria beast. I'd be interested to hear how you experience it, and how it would be different from ice-skating, for instance.
As for writing, if you don't mind me saying: what a nice problem to have...to be scared you won't stop. I am almost 100% certain Gabe would be supportive. They'd also probably be a bit jealous, because they, like I, struggle to get down to it, sometimes, I think. But maybe your writing will motivate their writing...? I wonder whether that would happen to me...the feeling of not being able to stop to do anything else. I doubt it, simply because I've always got ants in my pants and need to inspect the fridge often. On the other hand, I've just never had the space in which to try it out to see whether that would happen. So, I'm not much help there.
I do, however, still want to tell you about the way in which I get myself going on morning writing. But I want to consider it and write it up nicely, not fast.
Thanks for responding. I love conversations with you.
No need to apologise for delays replying - remember?
You aren’t reaching when you suggest my conducting moment was healing. I think it was and I hadn’t totally appreciated that before reading those words. So thank you!
Sorry you’ve been unable to Tai Chi but happy you had a reminder of home. I love thunderstorms, partly because they’re pretty rare in the UK - is it the same in Germany?
I actually spoke to Gabe about writing just after posting this comment while we were driving to Suffolk and they confirmed what you suspected: they are supportive of me writing for as long as I need to and they laughed when I told them the part about you needing to inspect the fridge often! Haha!
This letter is so full of life, I miss you in mine but it’s so lovely to hear how much you are exploring - about the city and about yourself. “Nothing was I walking after or into except my own feet finding their form on paths where I was glad to be a visitor in my own one short life”. Lovely lovely lovely!!!
So much of this resonates right now.
I just spent time this morning walking in the ancient woodland across the road from my mum’s house with my visiting school friend Carolyn - one you met at our wedding. I don’t know if you spoke to her but she is an eco-warrior of the stalwart kind and has written a short story recently about the destruction of a similar woodland near her home as an activism tool - it’s based on Fantastic Mr Fox, though, and the Dahl family refused her permission to use it, sadly.
Then there’s what you’re missing about SA while not wanting to leave where you are. I can’t wait to get back to my own space with my own things around me and my own routine but also don’t want to miss out on all the opportunities for experiencing novelty that we have here. You express that dichotomy and the pleasures of seeing life through new eyes by being in a new place so clearly.
And then Tai Chi! I have been talking about taking it up in the last week after realising that our friend Kayte (the wedding celebrant) was right about it being perfect for me. I was listening to Chopin and similar beautiful piano music with my headphones, as I do every morning, and moving to it with my eyes mostly closed; sometimes I like to “play” the piano as though I can learn to play the piece through movement alone and other times I like to conduct the piece. I’ve always felt deeply embarrassed by this activity - it feels like something “normal” people don’t do so I don’t do it unless I’m certain I won’t be seen - but thanks to my excellent life coach, I’m learning to embrace my weirdness so I allowed myself to do it, knowing my mum might come downstairs. I finished my playing and conducting and turned off the music, then realised the TV was on at the other end of the open-plan living room. As I came around the corner into the area where my mum was sitting, she smiled and moved her hands the way that I had been doing and smiled broadly at me (she can’t speak any more). She’d seen me and she had loved it. I decided not only that I was safe to be weird around her at last but also that Tai Chi would be an excellent way of moving the way my body wants to but in a socially acceptable setting. Then I remembered what Kayte had said, probably a couple of years ago. I’ve resolved to find a Tai Chi class when we go home. I’m so pleased you loved it! And bewildered by what made that teacher sweat so much.
I realised while writing this that part of the reason I’ve felt stuck in the last few years and have struggled to write is because I’m worried once I start I won’t be able to stop. I’ve been shamed by every partner so far for becoming too wrapped up in my writing and not spending enough time with them. I have a feeling that won’t happen with Gabe so much but I know I can disappear to write and not come up for air for days, if I’m on a roll. I forget to eat, don’t want to sleep - writing takes over. I suspect that could go on for weeks or even months if I didn’t have someone needing me to stop. Is that how it is for you? Do you roll with it? If not, how do you put the brakes on and find balance? I’d love to know, if you’re willing to share.
Much love x
Yikes! I am really behind on all my correspondence. I don't know why I didn't answer this earlier. Apologies!
The story of you conducting and your mother observing is SO wonderful. It sounds like it was a bit of a healing moment too, or am I pushing things too far?
I haven't been able to go to Tai Chi for two weeks now and I'm so bummed. But at least today's reason was a good one: a great big fat thunderstorm that felt 100% like a Pretoria beast. I'd be interested to hear how you experience it, and how it would be different from ice-skating, for instance.
As for writing, if you don't mind me saying: what a nice problem to have...to be scared you won't stop. I am almost 100% certain Gabe would be supportive. They'd also probably be a bit jealous, because they, like I, struggle to get down to it, sometimes, I think. But maybe your writing will motivate their writing...? I wonder whether that would happen to me...the feeling of not being able to stop to do anything else. I doubt it, simply because I've always got ants in my pants and need to inspect the fridge often. On the other hand, I've just never had the space in which to try it out to see whether that would happen. So, I'm not much help there.
I do, however, still want to tell you about the way in which I get myself going on morning writing. But I want to consider it and write it up nicely, not fast.
Thanks for responding. I love conversations with you.
No need to apologise for delays replying - remember?
You aren’t reaching when you suggest my conducting moment was healing. I think it was and I hadn’t totally appreciated that before reading those words. So thank you!
Sorry you’ve been unable to Tai Chi but happy you had a reminder of home. I love thunderstorms, partly because they’re pretty rare in the UK - is it the same in Germany?
I actually spoke to Gabe about writing just after posting this comment while we were driving to Suffolk and they confirmed what you suspected: they are supportive of me writing for as long as I need to and they laughed when I told them the part about you needing to inspect the fridge often! Haha!
Good to hear from you, wie immer. Tshüß x