To Stay or Not To Stay
Studio
I’ve been reading a lot these days. It’s a sign, I think, that maybe I’m coming back from the rubble of what felt like a collapse of my life earlier this year. I don’t know, though. It’s still there, the residue, lingering. Even when I was with friends or doing things that normally bring me joy, I couldn’t really focus on anything or anyone. That’s not me, not how I usually am. It felt like the chaos at the start of this year just swallowed me up, and I’ve been trying to swim back to the coast ever since.
It’s strange, you know, when you’re just trying to survive life, that survival becomes the only thing that matters. All your attention gets fixed on that. It’s like there’s no room for anything else. You’re just holding on, trying to keep afloat, hoping you’ll find somewhere safe to land. But not everyone is like this, I suppose.
I haven’t really shared all the losses I’ve had in 2024, but let me tell you, they’ve been deep. They’ve made me feel like I was losing everything that mattered to me, even myself. So I quit my job, decided I needed to focus on becoming whole again. Whatever that means, or looks like. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, if I’m honest. I just know I need this time to heal, to mend my heart and soul while I have the privilege of doing so.
Reading has always been my love, and I think back to how it started. It was during my childhood, a time when my family was in total disarray. One day, I was given a box of books, and it became my most cherished possession because it felt meaningful. I remember Charlotte’s Web sitting on top, and while I don’t remember the other books, I remember that feeling of pure happiness. I never looked back after that. Maybe that’s where my obsession with stationery comes from, too—being a good student was the only thing I ever felt truly gifted in.
When I was at Oxford for my post-graduate studies, I was one of the few students summoned to the faculty lounge (the same one where part of Harry Potter was filmed). That was a thrill, a sign that I had made it. But even then, it never made me feel whole.
It makes me wonder—what will make me feel whole? I don’t know if I ever will. And honestly, I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, and maybe that’s my grief talking. My therapist once told me that in a past life, I must’ve never stayed in one place. Even now, it seems like I always have one foot in and one foot already moving on. She challenged me to stay put, to commit to staying rather than always leaving. She asked me to think about how that would make me feel, what that would look like.
So I’m taking on her challenge, trying to be more grounded, to anchor myself with deliberateness. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t need to meet myself in the next life and feel like this one was unfinished.
11:09am
It’s strange, you know, when you’re just trying to survive life, that survival becomes the only thing that matters. All your attention gets fixed on that. It’s like there’s no room for anything else. You’re just holding on, trying to keep afloat, hoping you’ll find somewhere safe to land. But not everyone is like this, I suppose.
I haven’t really shared all the losses I’ve had in 2024, but let me tell you, they’ve been deep. They’ve made me feel like I was losing everything that mattered to me, even myself. So I quit my job, decided I needed to focus on becoming whole again. Whatever that means, or looks like. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, if I’m honest. I just know I need this time to heal, to mend my heart and soul while I have the privilege of doing so.
Reading has always been my love, and I think back to how it started. It was during my childhood, a time when my family was in total disarray. One day, I was given a box of books, and it became my most cherished possession because it felt meaningful. I remember Charlotte’s Web sitting on top, and while I don’t remember the other books, I remember that feeling of pure happiness. I never looked back after that. Maybe that’s where my obsession with stationery comes from, too—being a good student was the only thing I ever felt truly gifted in.
When I was at Oxford for my post-graduate studies, I was one of the few students summoned to the faculty lounge (the same one where part of Harry Potter was filmed). That was a thrill, a sign that I had made it. But even then, it never made me feel whole.
It makes me wonder—what will make me feel whole? I don’t know if I ever will. And honestly, I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, and maybe that’s my grief talking. My therapist once told me that in a past life, I must’ve never stayed in one place. Even now, it seems like I always have one foot in and one foot already moving on. She challenged me to stay put, to commit to staying rather than always leaving. She asked me to think about how that would make me feel, what that would look like.
So I’m taking on her challenge, trying to be more grounded, to anchor myself with deliberateness. Maybe, just maybe, I won’t need to meet myself in the next life and feel like this one was unfinished.
11:09am