thoughts before a meeting sitting on the couch

I look around me. My mattress is in my friends' living room. My makeshift closet in the space dedicated for their washing machine. My bags are parked at the far end of their corridor to not bother anyway. And a corner next to my mattress holds random items for regular use that can be picked up easily when required. Like my personal laptop. Or a bunch of chargers and a book to read. 

This isn't where I imagined myself to be a year ago. Definitely not two years ago. It's not out of need, it is out of choice. And I don't have my own space really, but there's so much comfort because I am not lonely. I am coming home to a house that is not empty. And that's something I hope I don't take for granted again.

Living alone, completely alone, teaches you about silence and how terrifying it can be. It teaches you how walking from the parking lot to your home at night makes you wish you had a knife and the skills to use it. It makes things like grocery shopping fun because you go outside and meet the world. Having your own space, and only your own, urges you to get out of it as much as possible. 

And sometimes, it's not silent, but quiet. You can put music on the speakers, sip some tea, look out of your window and watch the hummingbird build its nest, branch by branch. The same situation. The same locality and environment. But a different headspace brings out a different feeling. Of calm, instead of feeling trapped in a hole where digging only makes you sink further.

I recently read about how our brain is really stupid. It convinces us and finds reasons to believe what we want to believe. 

So let's all choose to believe in all the good things. About ourselves. And also about others. And watch our brain convince us of its truth.

Love,

Kanksha