Caterpillar Talk

So where have I been the past 200 odd days?

I often ask myself that question. But the truth is, it has been hard for me to document every single moment, thought, emotion and action since I stopped blogging.

I felt like I needed to do more at the time, as opposed to write.

Oh, but don't think I was on a joyride. It's been a rollercoaster on fast forward. From barely staying afloat my sea of tears, to finding love and living on a cloud for those enchanting few months, to finding a job and remembering how truly brilliant I'm at my profession, to redefining core relationships, to finally sharing my original compositions with the world, to gaining and losing weight, to gaining perspective but losing at love, again, to moving all my things back home, to finally identifying a 'home' space, to nesting, to longing for a companion, to wanting NO ONE to enter the space of my ever-covetted Underbelly, to discovering the magic of eating apples. Yes, it's been quite a wild ride.

All in all, I'm happy I made it to Day 315 alive, in one piece. The curveballs threw me around for a while, but so far, I'm still winning. I'm tattooed but not scarred, hurting but not destroyed, tired but not vanquished, ready to live another day in this busy transit we call 'Life'.
Now that the cocoon is breaking, I'll finally be able to stretch my long, cramped legs. And wings.

Upward and onward... Please?

Day 20: Taste

The smell of buckwheat flour crackling over butter. The cheese that melted as I pressed the fork and knife down to cut a piece. How the white cheese oozed out of small holes in the buckwheat crepe. The velvety touch of aubergine in the ratatoiulle, and dance of herbs on my tongue. The sweetness of caramelized onions. The fields where everything grew, ripe and fresh. The cows that produced the dairy that made the incredible cheese. The love and compassion of creating a wholesome meal for strangers. The smiles of the chefs as my mother watched them cook our meal. The attentiveness of the ladies who waited on us, with a smile, at the end of a long day on their feet. The intimacy between my lips and the cutlery. The tasteful art and the artful tastes. Gentle music caressing me in the background. The creaminess of everything. The food coma. The generosity and care of those who served us. Their large hearts. Dessert on the house. Sweetness to ride home with. The experience shared.

Bliss. Gratitude. Nourishment. Fulfilment. Happiness.