I try not to believe in omens

I try not to believe in omens (preferring instead to make sense of things from imagined signs).

One month before my 30th birthday I found a cupboard behind a mirror in the apartment I have been living in for 16 months (A good sign: 16 is my lucky number)

(4)

And I realised something that I have always known.

It’s not time that is needed, but

More space

There are many things I crave, but

once I have stripped back the frills and gashes of the stories and feelings

At the heart of those desires, it is space (and perhaps love)

(11)

I spent most of 29 questioning turning

30. And most of being 30 blaming that

anxiety on the restrictions of a lockdown where

We were compressed into countries, then cities, then essentials, then kilometres,

Then houses, then closed door rooms to recreate the feeling of solitude.

And my thoughts spread and latched and obsessed with no

Change of scene and people to pull out the stopper

And release the pressure.

(20)

My new cupboard is not yet full. (Though 29’s anxious serums and

pain meds have a new home hidden behind the reflection

of my face).

And now that big moment in time has passed

And passed again.

And again

(27)

I find that there really is more breadth on the

Other side of the thing we fear

that comes to pass without event.

Originally published here