This will be vague and rambling, but you’re used to that sort of thing from me, aren’t you?
So it seems like for the past year or so I’ve been figuring out what I want with my life, what has been bringing me down and where I need to improve. I remembered what joy felt like, gained a couple of new hobbies, and stood up for myself in new ways. Now I guess I’m done with that part, the discovery, and it’s time for action.
Action? Well that hardly seems fair. I thought figuring things out was action. That I’d be able to rest once I figured things out, that discovery would bring about the change I need, but apparently I have to do that part too.
But I’m so tired! Can’t you just do the first part for me, Universe? Give me a little kick-start?
Well, of course not. No matter how often I forget, no matter how much I wish someone else would take care of me, that’s not how it works. No one will carry me. No windfall will make my journey easier.
And I catch myself wishing I had chosen a profession instead of drifting all these years, but then I have to remember I would be questioning any of my established choices just now, because it is that time.
I laugh, thinking of how I thought I would be in my 40s. How mature. So stable. Secure in my self-knowledge. Of course, the more you know the more you realize you don’t know. I knew this a long time ago, but for some reason I didn’t think about it applying to my life’s journey, as well. Only to individual experiences.
I’m not saying the floundering is over, but I do feel a bit better. More creative and open. Ready to connect, and less judging of my failures.
Now I just have to figure out how to proceed and look for an opening.