There’s nothing quite like dragging your feet through autumn leaves and watching the beauty that is them falling from sun-kissed trees. I would show you a picture but I don’t have one – I left my phone inside. I’m happy I did because I doubt my camera would have captured it.
The slight breeze that you couldn’t really feel on your skin but you knew was there.
The sunlight delicately warming your skin.
The deep green of the grass juxtaposed against the brilliant yellows and reds of the leaves.
As I walked beneath one of the huge trees the breeze kicked up and sent a million little, yellow, dancing angels down around my shoulders.
The perfect autumn day, really.
Being back at work is rather bittersweet for me. Sweet, because I love where I work and who I work with, but bitter because I’m not doing what I love. I’m not excited to be here, and the twinkling I had in my eyes when I first started again in a rostered position has dissipated.
The appeal for me of being a musician is not just in the music or the people I would meet, but in the travel. I’ve said before on this blog that if it wasn’t for my crippling anxiety I would be one of those weirdos whom could live out of a suitcase. The energy I get from being somewhere new, seeing different things, learning about the world far outweighs any worry I might conjure or the exhaustion I usually face from being on the go constantly.
However, I’m no longer crippled by anxiety. I am living a pretty normal life by some standard of the word. I can see friends, go places by myself, go to work, get everything I need done – and more to the point, can actually enjoy myself while I’m doing it. Sure, I am still nervous about certain things but I know that’s just me exiting my comfort zone.
When I moved house, I was very worn out but all of that moving, all of the energy, somehow made me sleep better at night. When I went to Sydney with my family I rather enjoyed the trip, and by the time I was back home I had no need to crawl into my apartment and shut the world out – I was actually quite forlorn that the adventure was over.
That’s what live in all about, right? Adventure.
Since I can’t “live my dream” so to speak, right now, then I will have to make do with exploring my city. I have lived here for 10 years and I barely know it. I’m capable enough now, I have my anxiety at a very much “handled” stage, where I don’t really have a good enough excuse to put off adventuring.