Today was Sophia’s first day at nursery. It was a settling in session to be precise, I stayed with her for the first hour or so, and now she’s there on her own for another hour and a half.
Surprisingly I didn’t feel particularly emotional about it, and now I’m enjoying a coffee and my book at the nearby community centre.
A few posts ago I mentioner I was going to Italy for a week. So how did that go? It went really well, it was lovely to meet again so many people I hadn’t seen in years, we had fun, they are those kind of friends that even if you haven’t seen each other in 5 or even 9 years, you just pick up where you left it like it was yesterday.
I keep thinking, though, at all the people I’ve been and all the lives I’ve lived. And I’m not talking about transmigration of the soul, I mean in this life – I’ve lived many.
It might have something to do with my moving from one country to the other, speaking one language for 20 years and then a different one for the following 4 that is not the one that I’m speaking now, with calling so many different places “home” and changing careers from one field to the other every so often.
It might have something to do with me dreaming in Spanish one night and in English the next one, with the people who get to be so close to me they become family but that I then leave behind in my next move, and all the houses and streets that I feel so comfortable in today and a stranger tomorrow.
It might have something to do with the pets that have shared their life with me, waking up in the same bed every morning for years, but who have died while I was far away. And all the memories of skies and how different they look at different latitudes, no matter the fact that it’s the same one sky.
There is, though, a part of me that has always been with me, through all these lives I’ve lived and all the people I’ve been. I sense it but I can’t see it, can’t point it out, can’t confidently say: “That’s me”.
It must be there though mustn’t it?
Baby Smiles (By Sophia) 