volume one hundred and seventy-one
there is no right time
đWritten from Te Upoko-o-te-ika-a-MÄui (otherwise known as Wellington) while staring out the window between thoughts at luscious green mountains that bring tears to my eyes. It is, once again, all thanks to
â Nature Journalling for Writers course with The .It is small, but absolutely not invisible. Its darkness in colour means I see flashes of black and electric blue in the corners of my eyes even when its lightning-fast speed wants to avoid my catching it. It reminds me of the flashes of shadow I sometimes see in the hallway or corners of the house â angels or demons, depending on who you ask.
If it ever stops long enough, it might let me stare into its cosmic eyes in preparation for a showdown. It might let me see the violet in its wings that when paused are transparent. It might let me see it rub two of its six legs together the way I do before I sit down to a feast.Â
It's noisy. And constant. If it is moving, which it almost always is, the hum lets it be known. And it is determined. I have moved at least one hundred steps on my walk and yet it hasnât left the perimeter of my head. It circles me in curiosity. What does it want?
What is your story, little fly? Why, when the ratio of you to the world is so vast and almost infinite, do you choose the small orbit around my navy blue cap? Am I protecting you from bird predators? Am I confusing you and smelling like food when it really is just fruity moisturiser? Why, when you only have a few weeks to live â despite the rumours you only have a day, and this of course is assuming you donât get killed before then â are you choosing this hour to do this? Thatâs pretty much the equivalent of six months of my life and youâre using them to circle my head. Why?
Do you have a message for me? Are there flowers close by or food you want to hitch a ride to? Do you want to protect yourself from the sun under my cap, too? Do flies care about sun safety? I suppose if we are going to keep up with the equation of your life expectancy versus mine, sun safety and anti-aging is on a whole other level.
I wish I knew what it was that made you such a fan of me. I notice how much the ducklings have grown since I first took this route, and count that thankfully they are all still there. I notice crows and cockatoos flying overhead, trying to outdo each other in volume. I notice gumtree and bottlebrush litter across the ground. I notice one small gap in the clouds that reveals a blue sky. I notice the sound of the wind as it rustles through the trees above. I notice a small white butterfly, then another, then another. All you see is my neck, my ears, my nose and my eyes that you try to wriggle to beneath my sunglasses.
And so here I am, back at the desk and the bigger question needs to be answered, bigger than what it is that you want. What draws me to write about you?
Of all of these things I witnessed on this walk, why you? Are you a mirror of myself? Do I linger longer than I should? Do I want so badly to be included, I will do so at any cost, including overstaying my welcome or showing up uninvited? Do I talk more than I listen? Do I show up without purpose hoping to be a part of? Do I look at you and pity you because, in this one short life, youâve wasted time with someone who isnât worthy of it?
I am worthy of someoneâs time. This I know to be true. But sweety little springtime fly, I also know the pain of having wasted an entire chapter buzzing around someone, hoping. Are you waiting for me to change and want to be here when it happens, hoping that you can take credit for it? Have you got the attitude now, that youâve already spent so much time with me, that to leave now would be to give up on your investment? What if you left right before it got good?Â
Little fly, what if I told you that there is so much more to see out there in the world? What if I could show you that staying with me only gives you one experience to witness, and if you stay long enough you will begin to believe that this is all there is? If you buzz around my head, searching for answers, or even questions, youâll forget to think for yourself. You will forget that you had thoughts, ideas and desires before me.
Donât forget them. You have limited chapters left. Please donât fill too many of them bypassing who you are, who you want to be, and who you want to spend your time with.
I am in my thirty-third chapter. If I am lucky, I will get twice as long, and maybe more. But I donât know that for sure. Out of my thirty-three, I have spent approximately thirty-two of them buzzing around the head of a person on a walk, thinking that is what I should be doing.
I have lingered around the idea of what a fly should do, where they should be, and what I have seen other flies do, and therefore, taken that as what I should do, too.Â
I have focused so perfectly on the navy blue cap that I never really saw the other flies, the ones who flew further, the ones who chose the warm sun, a flower, a swim, or a snack. When I glanced at them, I thought âI am so happy for them, but that could never be me or it would be by now,â and so I kept circling the navy blue cap. I covered great distances circling the cap, never questioning it. I never allowed myself to truly wonder what else could be because it wasnât possible.
So what do you have to teach me, little fly? Is it in your circling over and over when the subject youâre circling can clearly see youâd be happier somewhere else?
Or is it in that moment you stopped? When you said, âLet me break free from this routineâ and you took your remaining chapters and escaped?
What did you find out there? Did you find love? Did you find euphoria? Did you find freedom? Did you find adventure? Did you find discomfort and realise how liberating that could be? Did you find other flies who had also broken free and told you they were scared once, too? But then they also told you that theyâd also never been happier? Did they welcome you? Did they tell you that life would only get better from here? Did they tell you it was okay that it took you the time it took you, the most important thing is that you were there now? Did they tell you there were no rules to how this panned out? Did they assure you that you would never be alone out there? Did they promise you that there were always going to be more and more flies joining them as they fled to bliss?
Lovely reader, head into the comments and tell me what is something in nature that has reflected you or something youâve experienced.
something i struggled with this week:
đ§ Zoom fatigue. But now I can admit it and stop fighting it, I can pivot in places I donât need to be there. Fighting it only made it worse.
a blessing from this week:
đĽ This entire week experiencing the beauty that is Aotearoa (New Zealand) which has been over a decade in the making.
a goal for the coming week:
đ As the weather warms it is time to strip back again; layers, possessions, obligations, calendar entries, saying yes to the wrong thingsâŚ
pics or it didnât happen:
I love you and I appreciate you reading my letters because I really enjoy writing them to you.
I love how you leave me asking "what is the thing" for three paragraphs and then you don't answer that question (although eventually, fly), you then ask "What does it want"? Such a great twist. You helped me picture this nature walk, and then your musings once back at your desk really made me ponder the parallels between a fly's life and yours (by extension, mine)! Thank you for such a vivid, thought-provoking piece!