I've decided to write everyday. With the tumult inside, there can be no other way to stay sane.
|photo credit- Michal Marcol|
It seems that I have lost something vital. In the past year, there have been so many moments that took away from my innate perception of self, that I have been forced to reconstruct my beliefs. Indeed, my very goals and foundation. Everything that I believed etched in stone came slowly unraveled. And yet, not a single earth shattering event took place.
There have been moments when the someone's loud honk in the street was replacement for soaring frustration, moments when the thundering of a summer storm gave voice to anger I had no words for. Times when happy news and stories, and issues of the Travel magazine from the National Geographic took me to places I'll never see. And this last is part of the problem. The fact that I had refused to accept so far, that much was out of my reach. And now, it appears unattainable...everything that I had imagined that I would do one day seems so far fetched, I wonder how I will sustain myself for the next 40-50 years.
I've written myself into a conclusion. I feel hopelessness. And I feel hopeless. And while I know it won't last forever, feeling this way for even a minute is too long in my book.
Speaking of books, I haven't come around to writing beyond the first chapter of two others that I had begun. I cannot muster the enthusiasm to say that I will get around to it. But I hope I can one day.
I'm so glad that I have this space. I'm going to ramble my way to sense.
I truly appreciate that you stayed so long to read this in its entirety. I'm going to get better you know. I just haven't written as often as I should have. It should be evident to me by now that nothing sorts it all out better than putting the words out there.
pic credit - www.freedigitalphotos.com; "Boy Running On A Beach" by Michal Marcol