driving North – soul searching map

Summer is all about happiness.

I read this on a magazine and the first impulse is to be captured by it. Two seconds after and I see the error on that affirmation.

Is happiness restricted to the summer season? Are we not allowed to be miserable in summer? More important, are we not allowed to be happy in the other three seasons?

The magazine gives some tips to accomplish summer happiness, like drinking enough water; loving the bed you are in or use sunscreen. As much as I appreciate being properly hydrated, and eventually a good night sleep – since that is my biggest curse, l doesn’t think my happiness will be found on those tips.

I am on a plane on my way to Barcelona. I was ready to write “on my way home”, but after being out of home for the last 17 years and had moved more than the Arnaldo Circus, I have lost the sense of where is home.

Home is where the heart is, they say.

Really? I am not even sure where is my heart, nevertheless my home then. But that is a whole another story.

Anyway, I am on a plane, and for the first time in a long time, I begin to allow myself to unwind. Three guys next to us on a boy-trip to Barcelona. Loud, ridiculously loud – one can feel and hear the excitement on the air, the plans, and the expectations mixed already with the uninterrupted circulation of alcohol between the three of them. I am feeling more their excitement than my own. And I think, and I make plans in my head also – or at least I try to make plans – and I remember that I made a list of things I wanted to do, and right now, sitting in the plane next these three aroused guys, my plans make no sense and then it hits me and I realize that this summer I should do a little soul searching and find my North.

My own North.

Now that I seem to have a little luxus time to reflect on my life, on what I want, and where am I going to with that.

Drawing a new map, like AttentionWhore wisely says.

These last months I haven’t had much time to draw shit. But the stress goes way beyond these last months, but to some years before, so many that I give up on the count when I know I will use more fingers that the ones in my hands.

The though of soul searching, though, hit me a couple of days ago, when I read something that made me think about home and peace and settling vs. wandering in a dessert. And it hit me the fact that I may have gotten all wrong all along. But then again, it may have been the three guys on a boys-trip so free of worries and insecurities.

But because of that, finding my North – my peace– will be the real plan, this summer.

I hope to the Gods of the Dessert that all of you, my loving creatures, find your own North.