I woke up feeling a little anxious about my trip. I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing. It will help me make sure that I am prepared, as prepared as one can be when going back to the place of your childhood after 26 years.
This evening’s worries include a possible lost e-mail that one of Evelyne’s friends sent giving me the name of a hostel type place that I could possibly stay at after Evelyne’s departure. Another is the question, “What am I going to do with myself for three weeks?”
This unknown is exactly what I want to be feeling. I can’t have this trip be entirely planned. I want it to evolve. I also want to go inside myself to those uncomfortable places where I am unsure of my next step. I want to go to those parts of the closet and drawer space where one rarely goes, where memories like personal items are forgotten stuffed and crumpled into corners or eaten away by moths.
What will I find? I have some idea. Thoughts, images, and feelings just won’t be as neatly folded as they are now.
At this time next month, I will be in Lebanon.