Brompton Cemetery, London.
Traveling alone, and the subsequent alone time roaming around London was cathartic. For once I remembered to pack my iPod, (yet another quirk I possess is not having music on my phone*).
Riding the underground, walking the streets and taking London in, with a soundtrack of tunes marked traveling on my device, set a backdrop of music that quieted the busy streets and allowed me to think. To be with my thoughts, both random and deep, quietly grounded and present.
I didn't have a strike me over the head epiphany, and it was only after arriving home and sitting here in a jet lagged stupor, did I realize its profundity.
Perhaps a bit mad, and certainly a bit of a freak, (I do wave that flag proudly btw), I saw myself for the first time in a long while, and because of that a bit of perspective and perception has arrived.
Fresh boundaries have been recognized in the wake of moments and experiences that didn't bespeak significance at the time; evidence that being truly present and totally myself is the only way to roll.
*I'm sure it has something to do with my OCD tendencies.
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