Once again an absurd amount of time has elapsed since last blogging, but let’s not get stuck on that. Two months post my last blog and just over a month since leaving Brasília, the Bright of Fools and Brazil in general could not feel more distant. This could also be related to the fact that I am sitting in my in-laws house in the suburbs of Stockholm, finally ending my two year long stint away from Sweden. Honestly, it’s nice to be back. After spending our first three weeks post Brazil in Ohio, we are wrapping up the last three weeks before moving back to DC in Stockholm. As always Sweden serves as such a reflective place for me– a place marked by short days and long nights, a million candles, a hippity-hoppity language I was glad I had not forgotten, and long walks in the woods. I find a type of peace here that is unique to the Northern Lands, a quiet and a tranquility that could not be further removed from the hot and colorful intensity of Brazil. “She journeyed and it was good.”
What to say about life right now? I could go on a ramble about how lovely it feels to be back in the Western World, what we will miss from Brazil, where I situate my life as a newly christened 32 year-old in the grander scheme of things. But I won’t. Despite the constant contemplation which is Sweden, the truth is I’d like to write today about the logistics that feel so central to me. To be perfectly frank with you, dear friends, what I feel most presently is a deep desire for my own place. I miss having my books and my own kitchen, my bed, and my clothes in one place. This living out of a suitcase for six weeks gig is rather draining, as you may imagine. I’m going to be perfectly frank with you. Since I left Brazil I have done little to no dissertating, have read maybe half a book, have put together one singular syllabus for the class I’m teaching next semester and have otherwise been pretty much in a daze of sorts. I feel severely displaced which is both calming in its release from reality, but also a complete and utter killer of motivation. I don’t feel like myself and thus I haven’t really worked in weeks. Strange, huh? Is it good, or bad? Not sure. It simply is.
Perhaps I needed a break after the intensity which was Brazil. Perhaps two chapters of the diss. were enough. Perhaps I needn’t be so hard on myself given that I’ve been floating around from sofa bed, to sister’s house, to mattress on the floor, and back to aforementioned sofa bed. Interestingly despite all of the potential material I have to reflect upon, having travelled thousands upon thousands of miles this year and having experienced the world’s contrasts in all their poignancy, what I really miss is sleeping in my own bed. Strange. It turns out that we are all simple creatures with simple needs. And I need my own sofa, my desk for working and some sense of stability.
So this end of the year post will not be one in which I speak of resolutions, or pacts with the devil or the Gods of Academia. I simply send out love and light to the world and thank you for your kinship. I appreciate your company on this journey. My intimate readership provides me a sense of grounding in their mere existence.
From a soon-to-be settled and (hopefully) back to normal,