I learned something amazing about myself. I love myself. I'm probably at what is the halfway point in my life. (Hence the turning point?) I realise that I have one life, this life. That's it. I had so many dreams, and I let them dissipate. Ten years since I first started my novel. Now, I can't even remember which hard drive it's on. Over twenty years since I first went to college in the United States, spent six months in Kenya, and learned that I could embrace the world. Now, my comfort zone is a 3 km stretch on either side of the flat I occupy in London.
I'm not saying that my life has shrunk. Well maybe in some ways it has. I focused so much on the world outside, and these days, the more I travel and the farther I fly, there is a sense of closeness, of smallness that I feel. I was in San Francisco last Sunday, and this Sunday, I'm back home again.
What has changed is the fact that I am constantly expanding my sense of self. Turning inwards is something I rarely ever did, and now I am. I am understanding who I am, and what I feel about myself. I feel as though I peeled back layer after layer of shellac, and I found love inside me. Not outside. Not in someone else. In me. I am reading again. I am writing again. And in the words of Linda Creed, "I found the greatest love of all inside of me."