Saturday, October 17, 2009


ft collins, co, by me

I'm very restless inside my skin, in my bones, my brain. Thoughts fly in and inhabit my body, masking as inspiration and clever ideas while they needle and agitate me. I don't entirely know where I am, who I'm supposed to be, what I should be doing. I often hear someone else's wishes and wish they would be mine too. "Is that what I really want too," I wonder. "Is that someone I can be?" The dreams others are making real become what I see at night, masquereding as my own dreams while I sleep.

For as long as I can remember, I have felt lost, unsure, unknowing. Forever I have felt like a seeker, trying to determine where it is I belong & what it is I'm meant to be doing. Right now I feel like an animation I once saw although I can't remember where or when. It was of a figure pushing and straining beneath a rubber encasement, fighting to penetrate its way out. That is me right now--fidgety, uncomfortable and restless. I want out, I want to be free, but the rubber barrier is not giving way yet. It is as if with every push against my confinement, I am grasping for "the thing" that will set me free. "There she goes again," I imagine them saying, "trying her hand at yet one more thing (that she'll surely give up on)." But I am desperately trying to find my thing--that thing where I will I feel that I am where I'm truly meant to be, doing my soul's work, being the best me.

But I am tired of straining, pushing, grasping. I'm frustrated at myself & my life & my failed attempts of hide & seek. When is giving up, giving up & when is it surrendering to what is? They say surrender is the surest way to contentment. Perhaps I need to stop trying so damn hard to find myself, my calling, my thing. And just do life--so that the reaching & the trying no longer feel like struggling, but simply experiencing.


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