In the afternoon today I got the chance to meet up with two really sweet friends who after tea decided that it would be good idea to go hunting for durian mooncakes at the mooncake festival fair at taka.
I felt quite nostalgic looking at the childrens’ lanterns on sale. It brought back memories of jamming AA batteries into the plastic tube-like handles of inflatable lanterns and hearing a high pitched tune play. Memories of crinkly fluorescent-coloured, animal-shaped lanterns hanging from a stick, and how I would walk real carefully when holding them, so as not to burn myself – Memories of a time when simple toys like that were fascinating, and fire was dangerous and intriguing. Memories of quieter nights, and simpler days.
It made me think, also, that children actually don’t need a lot to be happy. Simple things, like mid-autumn lanterns, can actually form the pleasantest of our memories.
Recently I’ve been waking up before my alarm, and dreaming in my sleep (or rather, remembering my dreams), which I only do when I sleep lightly.
I’m feeling the anxiety of being in between. I’m still too attached to my friends and lifestyle here to be ready to part, but also having to prepare properly for the leap, which of necessity involves me thinking seriously (and ideally, enthusiastically), about my future life. I don’t know how to feel excited, not yet. There’s still problems unsolved here. Relationships to manage here.
In the midst of my confusion, little things bring a lot of comfort – like a phone call from a friend checking how I’m doing, my sister grabbing everything within reach and flinging it at me to get my attention, and braving the tropical rain without an umbrella together with my dog. Perhaps its the familiarity of these things. Perhaps it’s the closeness I feel to these friends who make up my life.
I continue walking my tightrope, trying to find the balance between living to the full here and preparing properly for my leave.