Detachment and distance.

Ever since coming back from Sweden, I've had a lingering and persistent feeling of detachment and distance. Detachment from who I want to be, distance from what I want to be doing. Being more active, being more determined, being fitter, being more exploratory, being more progressive, making better use of my climbing time, being true to my self of exploration and inspiration. Something like Sweden (for example) was true to me, the sluggish, vague, floating along that I'm doing now is not.

This is symptomatic of a greater feeling of detachment and distance I feel from things in the past that were equally true to me. Although I am (slowly) working towards setting myself up for a lifestyle of action including climbing and travelling (in a general sense not in an extreme climbing bum sense), I feel like I'm in a fuzzy cocoon, in a sort of stasis while life outside goes on. While my fitness slips away unless I am totally diligent, while time passes slowly by, whilst things that have inspired me become more memory and less reality.

This is certainly not helped by my own utterly contrary and self-inhibiting predisposition to procrastination, indecision and inaction (an aspect of me that is totally at odds with what inspires me and what is true to me), and is probably not helped by side-effects of medication I am on (which I will be looking into this autumn). It is also not as drastic as this post might imply - what I've written might seem doomily emotive, but it is a subtle niggling malaise rather than an outright angstastrophe.

I write this because it is very much (although not entirely) climbing (and training and fitness and exploring) related. And because I try to clarify my thoughts and feelings to see if anything can be done about them. And I suppose that is, apart from just doing more and keeping more active, just this, which, of course, I already knew.