I've written about six sentences and cannot get a grip, spinning my writing wheels without a thought to hang on to. I'm trying to elaborate on a thought about how each day is the same yet different. An obvious truth. But the difference depends on the colour window looked through. Some days I spend being disappointed with myself. Is that a common struggle with other people? I know, know, not everyone is going to be an Einstein or Livingstone, a Mother Theresa or Mahatma Ghandi, I know that but much of my existence is coloured by the grey pane (pain?) of mild disappointment. Is it really enough to be thankful? Is that all that is required? Or should I be stretching every ligament in my body to make every second of my existence mean something in the short time I am here?
How will I be at my death, if I have time to review this life? Cranky that I wasted so much time, ashamed that I didn't use the talents given me? I read the articles on the Rebelle website (http://www.rebellesociety.com) and even when the authors are bemoaning their faults or are struggling through difficult times, dangerous head spaces, toxic relationships, they still seem, somehow, to have it together. They write from the Big Perspective, finding the juxtaposition of their unwellness with the cheer-squad wellness of their readers. Their failings are their strengths. Together, readers and writers, they are whole. The mere act of writing their failings obliterates them. They are complete because they can see the Big Picture.
Me? I just seem to spend time moaning that I don't know what or how I'm supposed to be. Or just moaning. Maybe it's tied up with feeling trapped. Wrote about that previously so won't go there again. Maybe all that I do is all I'm supposed to do. Being, wondering, doing, questioning, making bread and making beds, petting cats and spending time on the yoga mat, riding the hills and cleaning toilets, caring for R and wearing perfume every day because I can. Maybe that's all that's required. Without all the goddamn worrying about it!
So, now with that off my chest, I'll head outside and rake leaves beneath a vivid blue sky.
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