A long, hot Summer. But…I’m happy again (?)

Lately I’ve been experiencing happiness. What a strange thing to write. How many times can you say it and truly mean it?

It’s delicate, this feeling, this state. A part of me fears crumbling back down to the depths of melancholia, being snatched by the yearning fingers of anxiety. Yet, that’s the space I typically feel comfortable in, my natural habitat, an ecosystem where my body doesn’t thrive, but finds familiarity, and a twisted sense of safety.

And there is a part of my mind that cannot understand the joy when it’s been such a challenging Summer.

We’re now past the middle of August. This is by far the hottest Summer I’ve had in London in my ten years here. My flat, built to trap the heat inside, has been suffocating. Forced to keep the curtains closed, living in darkness, and windows open at night, fearing insects will come in. The Tube has been a sauna. The stickiness of some days takes me back to South East Asia… but there I could escape it to really nice air-conditioned rooms.

This also coincided with the first months at my new job. July in particularly was hectic. Back in the corporate world, I’m getting reused to a all-time high expectations environment, my body relearning the muscle that allows me to to work under pressure, without burning out.

I have not travelled anywhere since April, even though my feet itch to go somewhere, anywhere.

The world has been a terrible place to inhabit, with my faith in humanity falling off to a point I’m not even sure if I have a remnant of it.

Despite of it, I experience happiness. Accepting I can’t carry it all, that I can be aware and still experience joy. so mnay others are not given the choice.

The heat was a lovely excuse to get some new summer dresses.

The new job has given me the structure and the purpose that I need in the everyday.

Whilst I’m staying grounded, I’ve been planning my future travels.

And, most importantly, I’ve returned to some hobbies I left behind for a little too long, and passions that I’ve often felt too guilty to invest on. This year has somehow become the year I’m shamelessly investing in performing arts – going to multiple performances in the past few weeks, and getting tickets for upcoming months.

I have reembraced my love with scrapbooking, creating little albums with photos and collected mementos of the two trips I did this year to Athens and then Krakow.

This happiness is also being held by expectation. I will be spending two weeks in my hometown in Portugal soon. And then my dream trip is finally happening to Japan in October. So much to look forward to.

I don’t know what to say besides… I’m creating my happiness without the guilt, without punishing myself every time I’m investing time and money in the things that I love – the things that aren’t necessary from a survival point of view… but essential to build a life that has meaning to me. A life worth living.

I know happiness is fleeting, as I’m writing this, I feel the hesitaton. What if I’m speaking too soon? It does not matter. I had forgotten what it was like to feel this way, and I know the remembrance will make me come out of any hole. Cause it’s worth it.

Love, Nic