A year. Or 525, 600 if we wanna be dramatic (according to Rent anyway — i’ve always been fond of how musicals can make life’s struggles seem just a tad less…struggle-y). but anywho, that’s how long I have to wait, whether it’s measured in daylights or sunsets or anything else. it’s too long to figure out a next. To feel like I can move forward. I’m stuck in this limbo, everything in my hands, but out of my control. It’s hard to start something when you don’t know where it will end, where you will end.
[moment of clarity: again, this comes early on here but I’m learning that lessons are learned best when I write and think and write s’more. So, that last thought, it’s hard to start something when you don’t know where it will end, where you will end. Here’s kicker: is that not the case with life in general? We, I, you, have no idea where we’ll end up. and I’ve always been okay with that. i find peace in feeling that I will ultimately end up where I’m supposed to (in a cosmic the-universe-and-God-and-all-that-i-believe-in-plus-a-dash-of-free-will-and-good-choices-will-lead-me-there sorta way). So why in the hell am I struggling with this now? Why am I fretting over not knowing where I’ll be in a year? Why can’t I just live and do and adjust when/if the time comes for me to pack up and leave? …okay, let’s get back to the thoughts that led to this realization. I’m writing this post-reflection of the below so following the words and returning to this detour may make more sense. But as always, little makes sense in order so yes, continue on people friends.]
Trying to live, really live, in the present, in the moment is…difficult.
Soy como el agua del río
y por el camino me dejo llevar
porque aprendí que la vida
por todo lo malo algo bueno te da — Julieta Venegas
Aspirations seem to sometimes get in the way of life; more so lately. I’ve usually been really good about continuing to live while in this limbo. Like the above words sung so (beauti)fully, I have typically allowed myself to be carried by life’s direction, flowing like the river as so well put. That was me. That is me. But somehow, it’s escaping me some lately. I’m getting too caught up in the later, the next, the what’s-to-come. It’s not serving me well. I’m finding that, sometimes, things do just get so crazy that living life does get hard to do (credit to the misters from Maroon5 for putting into words what I feel, like music and it’s lyrics tend to do).
Before lately? “I’m down” was commonplace, an answer to most questions/invitations/shenanigans proposed. I’d ignore full responsibility, sleep, and future financial savings for adventure, social engagement, and ultimately peace. Don’t get me wrong, my shit got done. It always has and always will. But there was a higher degree of ease and calm and carefree elements guiding my actions and accompanying my thoughts before lately.
Momentary detour: I think what it is is that I’m mostly just getting tired of being overly considerate towards others and not having it reciprocated. Feeling like people know that if they say ‘jump,’ I probably will, straddling the thin-stringed boundary between being considerate and a pushover. Or having others use hurtful words, not knowing or understanding the true impact they have on me. i’ve never been good with disrespect or conflict or words that suggest either. I never ignore the fact that others experience struggle, overwhelm, frustrations, life or their reality. And I do my best to allow them to feel that I acknowledge this. But I can’t ignore my reality either. I shouldn’t have to. Given this, all of this, I feel like I’m developing a fuck you attitude towards others. I don’t know if I like it much. Innately, this isn’t me. For purposes of self-preservation, it might have to be.
“the words we use in our normal daily discourse matter. how and what we choose to communicate reflects not only how we think and behave, but it also affects how those around us respond to what we say.”
On a positive (perhaps related) note, headspace is clearing some. I credit prayer, faith, grace of God, and mostly kind souls that have helped me feel beautiful. At the end of the day, whether I’m saying ‘fuck you’ to some or not, I’m finding peace. And just living…as best I can. and despite the fact that it is hard to do.
Hope you are too.