time for change
Yesterday, I went to bed with an itchy feeling of discomfort, as if I realized that a shirt I was wearing for the last five years was too small to fit me in the first place. Not that the shirt shrunk, but I finally paid attention to what was bothering me all along.
I was exhausted, and yet I couldn't put a finger on what exactly was wrong. Waking up this morning, things changed. It was as if someone connected to my brain in the night and structured all my thoughts, dimming the unimportant ones and lightening up the only ones that had meaning. Nothing occupied my mind this morning but one thing — I need to act. It's time to move on to the next chapter of my life. To open myself to new opportunities, new connections, and new risks. I've been in the same state for a year, and it's getting too comfortable to notice further drift.
From time to time, I look at my life at a larger scale. At first, I see myself sitting in front of the screen, typing away this post. Here's my laptop with a Café Bloc sticker on it and my fancy four-hundred-dollar split keyboard. I zoom out, and now I am in the old, beautiful two-story house in downtown Montreal. I see park benches, water fountains, and I see people. They are taking their time in the sun, trying to postpone the inevitable — the end of this warm, sunny July day. I zoom out some more, and here I am, still in Canada 8 years later, in the same city I first came to. Time froze, and few things have changed. Who was Sergei those 8 years ago? What did he think about? Where did he want to be? Who did he want to be? What values did he have back then?
I am still not sure about my next step. Moving to a different city? Different country? Do I even need to move after all? I have yet to decide. These questions are secondary. What's more important is that I finally put glasses on, and the whole world came clear.
There's thought, so there will be action. There's action, and so there will be results.