Brussels to London
10:52 Bruxelles--11:58 London St. Pancras
An uneventful journey, save for being tricked at the station cafe. So you're returning from the continent and realise you haven't had a madeleine on your travels. See a lovely looking one at the cafe as you wait for your train. Think, yes, this could complete the trip. Reach for your wallet...
Don't buy the madeleine!
I haven't been much of a one for feeling homesick. Call me myopic, but when I'm in a place, I tend to be in that place. I've rarely longed for elsewheres. Perhaps this is why planning has become such a deadweight in recent months: projecting myself elsewhere feels a contradiction to being (but never staying) put.
I have, frequently, not wanted something to end. Not wanted to go to the next place. Not been ready. Leaving is so very hard to do.
2019 was the year of the maxim home is where the heart is - I went many places and journeyed or dwelled with many people and it felt good. Nourishing. Like I was deepening relationships. Coming in to St. Pancras, with its pink neon sign I want my time with you always reminds me of this. Makes me smile. Allows me a moment of gratitude for open arms and for being now accepting enough to step in to them.
This journey has uncovered something else. The very sharp edge of my introversion. A deep desire for solitude. I'm trying to find the place that I can be, rest, recoup, energise. A place that's my place. Because investing as I do so deeply in relationships, with time, emotional and intellectual energy, both allows me to find new parts of myself and can be a partial eclipse.
So now, as I prepare to reside another few months in the U.S, I'm also preparing to find my place. It starts in Paris. Bois de Vincennes and Saint Sulpice will be my twin embarkation points: one for the mind and one for the spirit.