A sort of quiet melancholy has snuck in yesterday, like a rude house guest coming home late from the pub. I spent the day tying up loose ends and working on finding a place to stay on my return, but I couldn't shake it.
At sunset, when the temperature had dropped a little and the sun wasn't so harsh, I went out for my last kayak ride. As I was paddling I realized what i was feeling was anxiety. Anxiety over moving, over leaving, over saying goodbye. But mostly it just felt like my brain was pleased to have something to gnaw on again.
Our brains do that. It's like they are a 2-year old Border Collie. If you leave them alone all day with nothing to do, they will destroy your favorite shoe. My brain wants to have something to worry about. It's her chew toy.
So I sat there in the kayak, with pink waves around me, fish splashing and warm water on my fingertips, and I told my brain in my best Caesar Milan calm-assertive-voice to 'sit'.