Lost property

Hi friends. I’ve been swimming a lot. And walking. Over the past year I’ve become my own best friend. Now that’s something to celebrate! When I was younger I quietly observed the human species. When I was 22 I wondered when I’d learn the art of being a female. Girls all have this unspoken rule book, a book I could never find in the library. I read a lot of books.

At some point I finally cracked the art of small talk and could appear almost normal, (almost all the time). I left myself behind quite a bit and ran away, onto adventures. It’s fun to run away from yourself, to escape that boring awkward out of synch human that takes time to process and understand. People are such fascinating beings. You’re all real life books. True stories.I love patterns. Understanding humans is like cracking a difficult puzzle. Meeting new people and talk is interesting. It’s mathematics. Patterns. People are so interesting. Collect data and predict outcomes.People are so much louder, so much more vivid, so much more fun than me, I am a sponge.

I’m 52 and have made friends over the years that makes me feel safe and seen. I have learnt the difference between friends and acquaintances (I took a while, I’m sorry I told you way too personal stuff to you, random kind soul(s). I didn’t realise there were rules). Then we got a dog.

When you walk a dog Every morning, like clockwork you find yourself in a quiet companionable place, eventually. At first, it’s not like that. At all. You externalise. Talk to too many strangers, you run away from yourself again, the exact opposite reason you got a dog in the first place.You don’t know who you are. The dog is a arsehole and you stop talking to strangers. Slowly, the walks become a silence, in synch. It’s peaceful and calm. You’re not really going anywhere special or specific. Your brain is like a washing machine. No thoughts at all, really. One day that very quiet and shy being that was left behind a long time ago appears in A doorway in your head and instead of slamming the door shut you just acknowledges its presence, not even realising, it’s you. It’s me. The dog silently says There you are. Finally.