It's 8:00am, and I just got 12 hours of sleep. I flopped into bed around 6 or 7 in the afternoon, thinking a short nap was in order, but 10pm was the time of my first waking breath. We picked up Ian and Allison at the train station, after which we returned to the Poggio and sent them off to bed. The day was so short, hardly anything from which to need relaxation. However, there must be some reason why I continue to sleep so intently. My dreams are grand, memorable, and completely transparent here. Every night, I relive a blending of all my different educational backgrounds. I receive awards that I'm too unprepared to accept. I'm somewhat left out of the celebratory activities after the year is done. Those whom I feel I've escaped from return to my subconscious to make me sort out the feelings I would rather repress. It all just makes me think this is a truly monumental transition that I have yet to actualize.
I am no longer in competition with grade school comrades, nor do I have to deal with those who manipulate me. There are so many places now where I feel out of place even though I tried my very best to be an honest and upstanding member of each circle. Am I an escape artist? I ran out of Wabash without a thought, left college the moment I got my diploma. That lingering feeling feels like a waste to me, but obviously a part of me understands it's essential to my mental stability. I dealt with all my recent "ailments" with the understanding that in a few months/days/hours I wouldn't have to deal with it. When your brain shuts down like that, it's difficult to decide whether some things are worth attempting to salvage.
Now is the time I've allotted myself to spend digging into my own desires and potential. I'm encouraged also by others to utilized this time of discovery and not factor in the pull home. I'm told to be a little selfish, but others are sure to let me feel the guilt. Am I overly sensitive or undecisive? And at the end of this phase, will I be enlightened by what I see and who I meet, or will I be struck by my own privilege of having the ability to wander?
What is my life supposed to be all about? Smaller and simpler, familiar and pre-existing is one compelling choice supported by so many. But I hear a voice that leads me to experience a scary world and become something I may not be strong enough to be. I must think my entire development should be accurately preserved in order to publish and broadcast when I self-actualize, but is this the thought of a self-centered ego or a prediction of unforeseeable things to come? As my idol, Jerri Blank, would say..."Guess we'll never know."
The big decisions keep on coming. Do I take up the Burgassis on their offer of a home for my childcare services? Do I promise them my 2009 in exchange for a beautiful arena for careers and a fulfilled life? I guess I assumed going into this I would have time after the journey to sort it all out and choose then from a bottomless list of life options. Now, even before I leave Europe, I am to decide if Florence is my choice.
I see 7am in rural Tuscany as a great ambiance for these sort of questions, a fog putting to rest all its workers and casting da Vinci's perfect atmospheric perspective. Maybe tomorrow, I will arise after only 8 hours of rest to the painted abyss and feel a real air with solid answers.