December here reminds me of spring in my neck of the woods. I expected something harsher than that. But it’s wonderful. I feel that I have to be here – my intuition was correct in bringing me here (again). December here is smooth. I take long walks, I write, I coach, it feels like being in the arms of a lover – and you still continue missing them. Before coming here, I knew I wanted to be here, and I missed this place. Now I am here and I feel that I should discover Feodosia on a deeper level, doesn’t matter if it’s a touch chilly near the water. I am shimmering with this energy of relief and joy crawling into all corners of myself. I wake up feeling joy. I wake up feeling I have so much to do, feel, give. I love giving. Giving gives me.
I bought vegetables and olive oil. There is a desire to take care of myself. There is a desire to work. I enjoy working, particularly here. Feodosia is perfect for work. It’s perfect for my development as a writer with its nostalgic overtone and with its disturbing goodness. I feel this town growing into me, lying on my skin, drinking me and me drinking it back, sweet wine. We are intoxicating, magnetizing each other. Oh, the rest of my life, the continental life, is crumbling off my consciousness now. Less and less do I remember the things of the continent, their importance evaporating from my awareness, as I become open to the clean simplicity of this island. I want to stay here, then I want to stay here for a little longer. I want to be here. Every morning I wake up to beautiful silence, feeling good and grateful, feeling that everything has gone perfect. This town is now entrenched in me. I am in love with it. I have never felt anything but “home” here.
Crimea energizes me. Even in the gloomy December. It morphs into the beautiful spring, maybe it’s that in my mind I am experiencing spring and so it’s reflected in what I see on the outside. I continue falling in love with this place. It asks nothing of me. I feel clean here. Not only the sense of possibility but also relief. Loose of the continent, I feel relieved. I feel disconnected from a large chunk of distorted thinking, disconnected from the accumulation of it. Here, I have ideas, creative things to explore. Ideas come at me, quickly tipping into action, I have to make so many decisions. Courage is essential. It’s no longer a privilege to go for what I want, it’s a complete necessity and I love it – the way it feels, deep and spiritual,expressive. I close my eyes and see myself dancing, the brilliance of the light that I am capable of being. The depth of the imagination that I am twisting into an infinity of tales about my life. Time lines no longer separate, what was in the past now feels to be in the future, and I know without a shadow of a doubt, they are all the same, stretching beautifully for my consideration, each with a separate value, yet each is happening right now and right now and right now.
I am considering my desires. I want to write, I want to think, learn. I want to be in beauty. I want to know the truth about myself. I can feel the separate strands of it, and I am tying them into a flower, I am making flowers, whole gardens, worlds, flights, out of these energy patterns, extending everywhere, growing into everything, the space of complete love.