Today, David and I talked about how time was out of whack this past week. Did you notice it, too?
Some days dragged by and swallowed up the ones around them. Monday happened, I think, but Tuesday took so long that it just swallowed up poor Wednesday and Thursday. I yawned through the day, but bounced around the house at night when I should be sleeping.
David suggests that the sunlight is the culprit, always about two hours off center because we share our time zone with Anchorage and the rest of the state. I think he’s on to something. We are losing sunlight more quickly now, and I think my body adjusts in stops and starts rather than gradually.
But more has changed this week than the sunlight. Three fellow volunteers have left, and the four new ones are settling into their jobs and the community. I have new people to talk to, learn about, explore with. We’ve gone hiking, and played card games, and eaten salmon over a bonfire. It’s different, not better or worse, just lovely in its own way, and I’m glad I get to know these people.
The days flow differently now without a regular DJ shift. I’m alternating between starting to think about what I’ll do next, and trying to finish up my projects here. It’s giving me some kind of time vertigo, expanding some moments into infinity and shrinking others to comic obscurity.
I remember feeling alive in every second of the day when I first arrived. There was so much to learn, see, do, know. And there still is, but it’s different. Things change. There is less in my everyday life to process anew, so my brain is filling in gaps and building up patterns.
Then things change again. I rebuild my picture of the world again. Again, again, again—everything is always changing, even if my brain can’t quite keep up.
