Week 7: F.O.M.O.

At this moment my homeland is 25 hours, 18227 kilometres, and two long plane rides away. It’s almost difficult to comprehend that my family, friends, bed, car are all so far from reach.


Week 6: Evidence.

My heart was pumping through what felt like a million layers of gear as we paddled toward the first rapid. All prior confidence was gone, evaporated into the swirling air around us.

Week 5: Connections.

“She looked across her world
And thought
She could reach all the moments at once …”

Week 4: Jump in.

Standing on that beach looking out over the waves, Fear was gnawing at me: fully-grown and yanking at its leash.

Week 2: Tapu

Tapu has a way of changing your behaviour, in the same way that it changes the atmosphere.

Week 1 : Strangerfriends

What if I was put with a houseful of wild Irishmen; or people who had no idea how to handle a vacuum; or a bunch of foreigners with whom I might have no common language?
Either which way … I had made my Irish bed, and I was about to find out how comfy it was going to be.

day two | Skin.

There is so much to be said for the glory of feeling at home in yourself, in finding comfort in your own company.

day three | Fear.

What does ’empty’ mean to you? Does it speak of possibility, or fill you with dread?

day four | The Cull.

Culling and packing, unpacking and culling and packing.

Right now it doesn’t feel like this can end with both of us alive. Either a vital zip will break, or I will. 

day five | Wrote.

Once upon a time, I had some feelings.
So I wrote a letter.
Then a poem about writing that letter.
Now I am writing a blog post.
So it’s a post about a poem about a letter about some feelings. You get it, right?