I’m in London at the moment, a coming home of sorts — I haven’t been able to stop smiling since I got off the plane, not sure what it is… the city itself, being somewhere new, being away from the baggage of home, being on holiday (although I did work a bit the first few days.. the pleasure of the ability to work from anywhere, haha), whatever it is I’m not questioning it. I am however contemplating a move… nothing immediate or drastic, but a slow realization that this is really somewhere I would like to be again for a bit. I sort of knew that already. Also, I usually want to stay wherever I’m travelling to… #wanderlust … I’m inclined to do something about this one though, we’ll see.
I took a long way home from the underground station today, walking through a park instead of on the main road… through a park I suddenly remembered really well. It was weird, I was walking along and all of a sudden I knew where I was and what was coming up ahead… and I never know where I am or what’s ahead, I’m always lost. It was an incredible feeling of safety and familiarity, while really I was 5,451 miles away from where I’ve called home for the better part of the last ten years.
Not all those who wander are lost — J. R. R. Tolkien
Writing that last paragraph made me think of the Tolkien quote above. While I am lost in the true sense of the word quite a bit, I do truly love to wander. This past week I have just wandered, gone a few places with intent, but mostly explored. I’m ashamed to say I haven’t made it to any museums, I just keep getting side tracked — I’ve had a wonderful time just learning my way about again and getting to be without worry… I hadn’t realized I was worrying until I wasn’t, strange how that is.
I’ve just returned from being in Kent with a friend, a friend whom I could not see for another ten years and I would still feel as if I’d only been gone a week. I love the country, I’d forgotten how nice it is to be away, near a woods, where you can look out and see nothing but countryside, patched out with fences and different grass or hay… I’m sure it would be different if I were living away from the city, rather than just visiting, but even just being able to walk around in the mud and see horses and owls was wonderful. On the topic of owls, we saw a barn owl last night, just sitting there in the middle of the road… the type of owl my tattoo was modeled after… spooky, but calming all at the same time.
I started writing with the intent to express my feelings around being the type 1 advocate anywhere I go was exhausting, but empowering all at the same time… explaining type 1 to new people, having to rehash my diagnosis story, and the explanation of how the pump works, the difference between type 1 and type 2, “no, I can’t get rid of it,” “no, it’s not hereditary,” “yes, I’m on insulin,” the types of insulin regimens I’ve been on, dispelling any other misinformation that they may have… it can get exhausting sometimes, but I found myself thinking today that now this person can go on and if ever they meet someone else with diabetes, or if it comes up in conversation, they will now have correct information… to be able to be compassionate and informed to whomever else they meet… and that is an amazing thing. In talking about it I also hear myself saying that “there are good days and bad days, and I’m constantly adjusting, but I am very thankful for the technology that makes my life so much easier” — that statement contains so much that I had previously fought so hard against. But I am thankful and I do get angry at it still, and both of those things are okay.