The Mislaid Felicity

The last couple years has increasingly consisted of nice, bright sunshine with only the occasional stormy sky and frosty morning – it was warm and optimistic and had a lot of lightness to it, even when things were difficult or complicated or I hadn’t slept properly for a fortnight. Such was life – and damn girl, it was good.

There is absolutely still a lot of sunshine around these parts; intense bursts of brightness that almost blind me and make me giggle like a teenager around her crush – but this brightness is no longer the constant, underlying hum of a feeling. Instead, most days seem overcast and heavy, as if that feeling of happiness is now something I need to focus all my energy on finding, instead of it simply being present in my chest. It’s unsettling.

14012635_10154256417995155_398189167_o
Original photo by Kryptonite Photography

One of the most exhausting things about all of this is the almost borderline behaviour my feelings are constantly showing off. As if they’re proud of their ability to swing from delirious joy and uncontrollable laughter to sudden crying or angry outbursts within minutes. As if they’re abovementioned stubborn teens, always experiencing some sort of emotional upheaval – like oh my god mom you don’t understand IT’S NOT A PHASE. Little pricks. I can go from having a mediocre morning to a manically hilarious afternoon to lethargically staring at the wall throughout the night. Sometimes I spend days feeling normal. Sometimes, I forget to brush my teeth.

I have been concerned, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been worried and unsettled and intensely un-amused by the whole thing. “You’re a stiff upper-lipper” as my Swedish friend said, “just keep seeing the counsellor, keep doing the things you enjoy, keep crying and swearing and for the love of god keep being around those awesome people you’re always talking about”.

And so, I will.
I’m taking the weekend off to go to Seattle, a place I have never been, to enjoy two of my favorite bands, that I have never seen and to spend time with people I thoroughly enjoy. When I come back, there are radio plays and photoshoots and new projects and un-written articles, singing lessons, napping partners and auditions and yoga and creative people.

And there is our new french coffee press, which makes me happier than I care to admit.

DSC_9253

Let’s be a little patient with ourselves, shall we?

Let’s cry when we need to, hide when we need to, laugh when we can. There is no set manual for how to be, how to react. I’m tired of the how-to’s, of the steps to follow. I think my background hum of brightness will slowly creep back – at least, I honestly hope that it will be back, because I miss it terribly – but it will take time. Time and emotions all over the place (or some days, the lack of emotion).

So I’m off to Seattle – without coming to a conclusion or lending Rafiki wisdom or even bellowing a hearty guffaw.

I’m off to Seattle – and in this very moment I feel present and hopeful, something that might be gone like Kayser Soze in a puff of cigarette smoke – so I will simply leave it here, my sudden moment of calm and coffee and my half packed bag, for you to do with what you will.

13633408_10154164726050155_2142930349_o


3 thoughts on “The Mislaid Felicity

  1. Hanna what you expressed has resonated in a huge way. We do need to deal with things in our own way and not the expected conventional way. And the little things can give us such joy & help us find balance-whether escaping through our art, meditation or new coffee press-for me my espresso maker. These are the things that bring us back to the reality of goodness. Take care my love & enjoy Seattle.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s