Been away for a while, physically and metaphorically.
Went to Lazio, did some geophysics and found some cool things. Came back and found everything a bit much. The same feeling as the final year of my PhD: stoptheworldiwanttogetoff. Too many things to worry about, so many decisions to make that even deciding what to wear or eat takes too much mental energy.
I went to Scotland for my cousins’ wedding. It was wonderful and warm and perfect. They had a humanist ceremony and I wanted to talk about the idea of ritual without religion, how I think we need rituals, even if we don’t need Gods. But I couldn’t find the words. I have been home to see my beloved M and had a wonderful selfish weekend with him. But I’m still a bit wonky, still not writing my diary, still finding words hard to come by.
I don’t like to talk about that stuff here, so I’ve been avoiding you all. Sorry.
But being an ostrich doesn’t work forever. On friday we had our annual work outing- the first one I have been able to go to. We played silly team games in the morning and then something called footgolf in the afternoon. I knew I would be bad at it, and so for once I let go and had fun, gloriously failing. I was the worst player by a long way, and embracing that made me really happy. I even got a medal, for all of 5 minutes, before I had to give it up to the real winner. Perhaps there is something to be learned? Dad says I need to do all the scary things ‘flippantly’; like they don’t really matter. Like no-one really cares how awful you are at kicking a ball into a plastic hoop…