there is so much more sharing that goes on when it is difficult, is there not? it's been a jumble recently.
on sunday, alayne and i were sitting together and i comment "i don't know what i am doing"
she replies, "this afternoon?"
i say, "with my life"
i say, "with my life"
and never have i had such an organic interaction that is so representative of our two personalities. i turned thirty on saturday and while many i think experience this introspective scope of life at thirty, i've been doing that my whole life.
i mean, i think i was 25 or 26 when i looked up what day of the week my thirtieth would be so i would know when to plan my party. this is my life, my mind can be a truly exhausting place to be. i talked to my counselor about it and he stated that when you experience trauma or loss at an early age, it can be extremely difficult to have that immortality viewpoint that so many young people can hold on to. while there is value in this for me, it creates a certain weight to each day. a certain knowledge that time is so finite and what truly matters.
it's hard for me to watch tv without feeling guilty
it's hard for me to just relax without guilt
i have a constant sense of "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR ONE WILD AND PRECIOUS LIFE!"
the answer of course is constantly, not enough.
i realised recently, that this past year, i have put an immense amount of pressure on myself to make their deaths mean something. the weight of that, of bringing meaning to the death's of two of my immediate family members has started to crush me. i am following these rabbit trails and realising nothing seems to be adding up.
i am tired. exhausted really.
when everything happened, there was this spotlight that was thrust on me. it was weird and bizarre but it created this complexity of "yes, this all must mean something, i must need to share it"
now the dust has settled, and i realise, i need to withdraw for a little bit. i need to focus on my kids for a little bit, i want to be normal for a little bit. i want to cultivate what is placed in front of me right now, because it's really, really good.
zooming the lens a bit, to what is framed in my view.