travel
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Can she still navigate the waters? Or must she learn to trust her inner compass again? Now that she knows the truth, grief follows. Grief for the woman she thought she was. As she revisits old conversations and old silences, replaying social moments with new eyes, wondering what was misread and what was endured.…
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Honestly, at this point, I’m convinced the universe is writing my life like a cosmic sitcom. Picture this: I finally get diagnosed autistic at forty-five and immediately discover I’m now both the ancient mythical sage and a small, overstimulated goblin-child who needs grape juice, quiet, and maybe a nap. The duality is outrageous. One minute…
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Every age needs a monster to chase. In medieval times, it was witches who were marked and burned, as if fear could be turned to ash. In the twentieth century, it was communists, with lists and sweeps that promised safety and delivered suspicion. And now, in the twenty-first century, the sweep is for autism. Presidents…
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As we collectively have fallen into the Dark Night Of The Soul, “a spiritual, mental, emotion crisis in the journey of the meaning of life or union with god.” Sensing mother’s womb cry for salvation, still in human slumber, pages in a chivalrous story, neglecting our shadow side (our ego, that part of us that…
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The year began as though I were thrown into the heart of a mythic storm. Like a ship tossed in a wild, unknowable sea, I drifted rudderless, battered, and worn, feeling I could sink at any time. The winds howled fears that gnawed at my sanity as the waves crashed with the weight of loss.…
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Two months now, I’ve been back on these windswept Orkney Islands, with hail clattering against the windows and snow whispering its icy secrets into the night. The days have been long and strange, filled with waiting. I’m still somewhat camping, a nomad between hearths, as I anticipate the day I’ll receive the keys to my…
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It’s funny since I’ve returned; you’ve crossed my path a few times, and every time, it feels like a size-magic shock runs through me. Like there’s something more at play, something otherworldly. The silence between us, it silences new experiences we could share as if fate itself is holding its breath, waiting for a word…
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I left Orkney at the end of July. My heart was heavy, weighed down by the land and the ties I’d made. Yet, as if the island itself was reluctant to release me, something strange happened. As I stood at the ferry terminal, something weird happened my booking, without warning, was cancelled and rebooked for…
Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens 