I’ve been standing on the balcony of the fourth floor apartment, watching people walk around in the middle of the night. If there’s one thing that’s always defined Hong Kong to me, it’s the constant traffic you hear when you’re sleeping, mostly light buses running on diesel, and taxis. Across the street, the rooms of the St. Theresa’s Hospital are lighting up one by one. The sun hasn’t crested yet, but the streets are becoming busier by the minute as the sky brightens in noticeable degrees.
Practicing Tai Chi usually helps me sleep and center myself, but today it’s only a reminder of how painfully sore my hip sockets are from running around airports with all my luggage. You never truly appreciate the short form until you try practice in a Hong Kong apartment.
I’ve been up for hours now, and I’m exhausted but wide awake. It’s the jet lag, the medication, a restless mind, or all three.
Those who know me know that I’ve always felt that Hong Kong is my homeland, even though I wasn’t born here. But for some reason, it hasn’t sunk in that I’m here yet.
I guess I’ve been going through some hard times. I never really thought about it until someone brought it to my attention. The heartbreak, the colitis, the grandmother, the disillusionment. Somewhat major things, I suppose, that weren’t in the front of my mind. Maybe I haven’t been letting myself think about them. Or maybe they’ve been affecting me without realizing it.
The written word appears to be the only reliable thing I have left. My friends are all away. Everyone’s asleep, and I’ve been crying. I’ve been crying in the heart of this beautiful city.
This city brings my guard down. This city lets me feel.
A friend of mine is working on the importance of the PAUSE in life’s general pace. Western Culture, and increasingly the globe, has few mental pauses in a day, let alone a life.
This is a great time to reassess everything. It will be a good time to breathe.
It’s almost proving to be too much time actually. My insomnia is giving me an extra few hours of wakefulness, which only leads to more thinking. I think I need to shut my brain off for a while.
what would cold meds do if you’re not sick? add some grogginess?
what was the most painfully boring course ever? I had a macreconomics text that could take me from wound-up to totally out in minute. that book should have been rebranded as a sleep aid…
I’m guessing over-the-counter cold meds would be safe, but I’ve always been one averse to unnecessary medications.
I’ve tried the “boring” route, but as soon as my head hits the pillow, the mind goes into overload again.