Am writing this on the train to work. You know, the one I’ve caught every day for six years, the one that represents everything about routine and normality and the day job. I am trying very hard not to notice this return to work. Like many of us after holidays I am trying to hang on to the thoughts, feelings and atmosphere of what I have left behind me and not on the challenges of the day ahead. I am trying to let go lightly – because time is linear, and the hours and days only run before me in one direction.
I have so much I want to record and keep from the weekend but everytime I open the box of memories I’m hit by a cacophony of sights sounds noise feelings conversations friendship music jokes impressions introductions laughter love beer art tea quiet – and it’s never really going to be possible to untangle that lot in the space I have before real life takes over again. The best I can hope to do is pull a few thoughts out and examine them before the demands of real life intrude. It feels like such a race against time…
In my daily life I wail about how I don’t have time for sitting still and being contemplative. About how much I hate trying to still my mind and find space. (see above!)
Yet. Greenbelt lasts four days. It’s the busiest time: there is so much going on, things to do, people to talk to, people to listen to, stuff to watch, beer to be drunk. So why – in the midst of all that busyness, where it’s hard to not feel like I’m missing something good at every moment – why is a daily visit to Soul Space important? That would be the quiet, contemplative Soul Space. How is it so easy to make that choice to miss something else in such a concentrated time, when the stakes are so high? I wonder if I will ever stop finding myself such a contradictory person.
I had so many lovely conversations with people I really only know via Twitter. In fact nearly all introductions to third parties involved sharing people’s Twitter names alongside their actual name. My greatest takeaway from this year’s festival has been that sense of connectedness – some ties are stronger than others, of course, but I pretty much felt at any time there was someone around that knew me.
London is looming large out the window now, so I need to stop, look at the BlackBerry, see what the day ahead holds for me. Whatever it does throw at me, I hope to find time for further untangling and recording. Am I changed?