Yesterday I didn’t write...it was weird. I just didn’t feel like doing my routine. Like if I did it, something was going to pop inside my head. I just needed a break. But actually, the break didn’t help. I have been consumed with work lately and not writing only allowed me to start working earlier and longer. So as usual, I just defeated myself.
I am in a weird space. I feel lost and lonely and bored and a little depressed...but I also feel grateful, do not really wish it to be different and grateful for the life I have today and all that it entails and all that it doesn’t entail...
It is weird to be in this place where I am comfortably uncomfortable. Nothing is wrong, nothing is exactly the way I would like it. And yet, I am ok with all of it.
I was talking to an old friend last night. I was listening to her talk, enjoying the rhythm and cadence of her voice. I have always liked listening to her talk. She has a very keen and sharp mind that embraces the incongruities of life, a delicate laughter about all the craziness in the world. I love her love and dedication to the disenfranchised and forgotten souls that make up the fabric of our lives, even though most of us would prefer to pretend that they don’t exist or have the convenience to not be involved in their plight.
I was grateful to have a friend that knew me when I was still drinking. Someone that saw me in my least attractive state and still is my friend all these years later. I am grateful for her presence in my life, then and now.
I feel a sort of restless acceptance of my life right now. I can feel things changing in me, a shifting and altering that I am not really in charge of but have to support or it will cease. Sometimes, like right now, the words are falling onto the page, and I don’t even know if they make sense. I am not sure they are relatable or even coherent. They just come to my head and then magically appear on the screen. My fingers dancing and drumming out the contents of my heart and mind. It is weird. I feel weird. Disconnected from who I have always been but somehow stalled out in my change so that I do not yet feel completely synthesized. A work in progress, long stalled out.
Regardless, I know it is just a feeling. And I am grateful to be writing today after skipping it yesterday. All day the thoughts plagued me, “perhaps you will never write again.” “Perhaps you will just stop, perhaps you are done.”
There was a certain freedom to thinking that I could just get up and not write. But what would I do instead? Spend more time on Facebook? Please, God, no! Read more? Ok, that wouldn’t be so bad. But there is nothing else that I want to do more than write. I wish that I could do it all day long every day. Read, write, cuddle on the couch. I am definitely changing and this time, I really don’t know into what...I feel completely unmoored from my previous trajectory...sent somewhere else that I do not completely understand or am sure that I want to go.
So today, I will just be comfortably uncomfortable and trust that whatever has gotten me this far, did not bring me here to drop me on my ass. I am going to keep going...even though I have this sneaky suspicion, I am only moving like twenty feet away to my office. I never thought that I could exist happily in twelve hundred square feet, but I forgot, that I have lived the whole of my life in the confines of my head and that is way, way, way less space than my house!
Today I am planting a flag of progress in that I can be comfortable even when I am uncomfortable. Who knew that was even a thing?
