the worst is over

you have a greater purpose than any of us could have imagined

Sometimes I’m so happy I can’t contain how I feel within my body. Last Sunday, I went for a writing workshop. I left on time, almost as if my body needed this. When I reached the trees, I slowly walked up the steps, and made no noise and pulled up a chair. I gave a sweet introduction, read an embarrassing story about a fictional reception I attended when I was delusional. But I’m so happy, that I’ve made sense of my sadness. I can tell why I was running for years, and now I’m starting to slow down. I don’t begrudge people who’ve made it. Sometimes I wonder where my bliss is. is it in a sunny living room, with a printer, where I can print the words I’m putting down, as soon as they’re down here. A Sunday spent at home, taping the sheets to a blank wall, making sense of what I’ve been postponing for so long.

When I got back home today, I got in bed with a book. The heat knocked me out, and I deliriously ordered groceries at some point. Until my mom woke me up. I got up, and drank water from this bottle I love so much, and I waited for the time to pass. The heat is its own person in Delhi. It lives with you in your room, and travels with you to work when you’re getting late. And I’m always getting late.

I thought being a writer meant, I only put out work that was excellent. at this moment, in this flow state, I realise the point is this. To exist. To honour the moment, and not question the work. Even though I question the work. Constantly. Consistently.

It took a long time to reach here. Too long almost. And I always wanted the wrong things. I pursued them all the time. I begged them to stay. But when it left my life, it left an emptiness that made room for the new. For the unfurnished. Half of this year is over, and now I know how much time and effort and love it takes to drag your life from one point to another. I feel like a little pebble, stuck to the side of a creek, and even as the water flows, it’s changing me, while not changing me at all.