For the rest of my life I will be examining
Mining. As if inside of me is an ancient cave of endless worth. Because yes, it is.
But is hard to examine when one is spread so thin. It is hard to do anything but blame it on circumstances and then revel in the guilt leftover because you blame what you should be grateful for. Family, partnership, children, home, jobs.
The sky appears so still and the brackish water reflecting the sunset ripples in a pastel frenzy; my mind ripples under the pressure of my own expectation.
I expect- what? To carry on. Be good. But…:”you do not have to be good…” said Mary Oliver, and yet I am still walking through my desert repenting.
I want literature and challenges and Universities. I want to take up my (our) cause in a context that will raise my awareness. Feed my knowledge. Help me grow.
While now I may be growing in resiliency- character, even- it feels my mind is in atrophy, yet it is so alive. It is pushing against the confines of my life screaming
IS THIS IT?! WHERE IS MORE?!
I thought a family would bring me happiness, so I over-devoted myself and my time and now I am scrambling to get it back. The last thing we all need is my resentment because I gave what I was never asked for.
How is this all supposed to work?