Shallow Pockets Brimming with Hourglass Sand

 And so today marks two months until America. Eight weeks. What an insignificantly small digit that is. 8. It's the first milestone that's been a real smack in the face about how quickly time has passed here.

 
This month has been a big change in regards to my perception of this life. I referred to my flat as "home". Macclesfield. Home. Who would have thought?

I've also grown very attached to a few of my England friends. People that have become part of my life. People whose absence will create a void when I pack up and leave.
Thank god for Whatsapp. Thank god for Skype. But, just as it hasn't been a substitute for my friends in the States, it won't be a substitute for these friends either.

It's been easy to dwell on the aspects of this adventure that have strayed from my anticipations and idealizations. To see what's wrong more so than what's good. But with so little time left it really does open your eyes to the things that won't leave with you. And the people.

I recently finished a book called "Siddhartha" recommended to me by my brilliant, wise-beyond-her-years yogi friend, Julia. There was a portion that really opened my mind:

"Everything is necessary, everything needs only my agreement, my assent, my loving understanding; then all is well with me and nothing can harm me. I learned through my body and soul that it was necessary for me to sin, that I needed lust, that I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and be glad to belong to it."

Living. And learning. In Macclesfield.