Out of body. And possibly out of mind as well… That’s what it feels like.
And, well. No. I’m not, neither of them. But I am definitely keen on heading home, that’s for sure. While going through security at Heathrow on Sunday, for my fourth flight in eight days I had a hard time to stay focused, and for a while there, I was having a deja-vu feeling of being in Düsseldorf on my way home after the Summit for Human Potential Realisation.
I want to sleep in my own bed. Next to my husband, snuggle up close and breathe him in. Hug the children. Sit down with them all to dinner, hearing about their ongoings this past week. Have a green smoothie in the morning, and a bowl of fruit with yoghurt for lunch. Let the chickens out of the coop in the morning, and take a stroll out into the garden later on in the day, checking for freshly lain eggs.
As I write, the out-of-body-sensation starts to creep up on me again, as I dream myself away into my ordinary everyday life at home… the smells, sounds, sensations. The daily chores of housekeeping. I even long for the task of hanging and folding some laundry. So maybe, I have gone out of my mind after all?