nathalie shushan

I need to put something out there into the world. Anything. Nothing will ever feel good enough and I have far too many unfinished drafts gathering dust so I just have to do it. Even if it’s only a declaration, a public promise to myself that I am brave enough. 

My worry now is that I’ve started too late in this trip. There is too much ground to cover and I don’t know where to start. The comfort of Paris is a distant memory.  Days spent in constant motion have blended together and I am overwhelmed by the thought of organizing my memories into something coherent. Is it better to start where I am (Athens) and return to memories as they surface? What will be lost if I don’t rush to record it? 

In the meantime, I’ll begin with an introduction. In March, I left my job to give myself an opportunity to reassess my priorities and focus on writing. It was a dream that I’d tucked away long ago in pursuit of a comfortable life, an act that was reinforced by my belief that I hadn’t really lived yet and by my fear that I had nothing to say. 

I hope to create a space where I can shine light on the parts of myself I’ve left unloved in darkness – so here it goes.