Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Someone told me that all great disasters come in three. I really hope so, because I can't handle any more. First, I got a major set back in Moscow, that I don't want to talk about. Then, my dad died. And I am only in writing terms with my mom right at this moment.
Though I couldn't change anything about the first two events and feeling powerless about it, I failed in avoiding the third one, even though I clearly saw it coming. My mom and I were way to hurt to be able to handle each other... Luckily, we resumed communication shortly after and I am positive we will be good again soon.
For a few days, upon returning to Moscow from the funeral I was in a dark place. I was still social, the girls still made me smile, I kept on running, but I kept on having this nagging question wonder in my mind: "What is the point of it all?". And nothing seem to matter as much as it mattered before.
I went for a run by myself one day, then took a really cold shower and realized that I have to do something about it, right away, before I get even deeper down, where I've not been before and don't want to. So, with support of unbelievably understanding husband, bless him, I escaped for a bit.
I wasn't sure where to go. I wanted it quiet, safe and beautiful. So I went to Norway.
It served it's purpose and more. I feel much better now. Inspired again. Most memorable moments: running-walking uphill in Bergen, the feel and view from around the old fire station, dinner in a very fine restaurant, feeling my father's spirit under the shadow of the trees while the sun was rising, smiling again without feeling guilty.

and now on the road again...

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