I'd like to think of it like this:
But it feels more like this:
I imagine that we all get caught up in the pressures of work and family and responsibilities and our dreams and finding our path. Lately, this feels overwhelming, like I'm caught up in machinery outside my control and I'm struggling to keep from getting too bruised to function.
The new year brought more change professionally than I am used to and honestly, it's left me questioning my life choices.
Facebook reminded me of a post I'd made over the Memorial Day weekend in 2010 commenting on the abundance of angry posts cluttering my feed and asking for reflection and positivity. I read it with dismay, thinking - Oh, sweet summer child, you have no idea.
I'm definitely angrier and my coworkers are as well. I channel my rage into short stories usually, but I wonder about the negative affect that this continual stress takes on my emotional and psychological health. There's a powerlessness that drives us to futility which might lead to recklessness. I have no idea what form that will take, though I can share that I bought lottery tickets and three pints of Ben & Jerry's last night.
And I'm writing.
And I'm thinking up new projects to write.
And I'm trying to stay aware and open to new possibility.
And I'm trying to remember to practice some self-care.
And I'm trying to rise above the pettiness and passive-aggressive jabs from others so as not to get caught up in their churn.
I spent last week in North Carolina where I got up early every morning and took my coffee down to the lakeshore so I could absorb this:
