What do I want, anyway?

I've felt stuck lately, I don't like it. I've been overly sensitive and the intense scares me. I've felt an all too familiar sense that I just don't want to. I don't want to decide anything, I don't want to do anything, because I've completely over thought it all. This isn't just something that happens with major life decisions. On an off day, I can have this kind of melt down at the grocery store and go home empty handed.

I realize that it really isn't a big deal: pork loin or rump roast. But I can see how I got here. The loss of people close to me, the struggle to go day to day without them, a lack of discipline in keeping myself centered and creative, throw in a couple other life altering events over the course of a few months, and I feel like I've been running a marathon. But not the kind of marathon that gets me anywhere. The kind that is more like running in circles; fueled by caffeine, lack of sleep, and counter productivity. Meanwhile, at the grocery store, the crisis is heightened by the terrible look of fresh cuts of meat, and wondering if the animal died humanely, where it was raised, where it was processed, it goes on and on. Tofu starts to look like a really good option, or better yet: nothing at all. The struggle is real.

The truth is, I know exactly what to do to avoid this. I haven't done it, though. Exercise, yoga, writing, painting, breathing deeply. At least one of these habits helps ease the over-active mind; in combination and regularly, they're even better for me. It's easy enough for me to forget them when my mind is overstimulated, though. As a result, I start to feel very lost. I can't remember what it is I wanted in the first place.

I shared in a blog last month an idea of my internal landscape. I can't report that I've found my way and all is well. But I can report what I've discovered there this week. My resolve washed up on the shores. I remembered the things that I need to do to keep myself whole, or grounded. I've been very much like a tree pulled up from the roots in this storm. Branches still trying to reach the sunlight, but too disconnected to actually get what I need to do so.

I began to mull over questions in my mind. What do I want, anyway? While I still don't know, the question brought about the recollection of the things I need to do to not feel so disconnected. I also identified a few priorities. These give me a focal point! I don't have to have all the answers, I just need to focus on what's important. What I want will emerge from there. I can stop exhausting myself and getting nowhere in the process. I don't have to overthink, just be. I can plant my roots and still reach for the stars. 

I heard the news of David Bowie's passing. It hit me harder than the loss of most celebrities. Of course I've never known him, I can't say that I ever knew that much about him as many fans do. But I admired and appreciated from afar. His death reiterated the fact that people die. That we all will. My mortality has never been a huge thought in my mind until recently. Sometimes, when I'm trying to fall asleep, I panic. I'm not ready. I haven't accomplished anything. I'd thought that it feels easier when people go if they've had amazing accomplishments within their fields of expertise, like Mr. Bowie. But it hit me again: everybody dies. Even the outstanding. Combined with the fog that already existed in me, this one bothered me. My perspective shifted from do or die, to do or don't.

Over Christmas break when I was eleven, I spent a weekend with my older sister. In a single day, I learned to ski and was introduced to the most magical movie I'd ever seen: The Labyrinth. To this day, it is still one of my favorites. Sarah sets out on a journey to set things right. She has to solve the labyrinth, which is full of setbacks, traps, and things that aren't always what they appear to be. She meets unexpected characters along the way, both friend and foe. While she can get distracted, she always comes back to her resolve, back to the task at hand. My favorite scene is the ballroom scene. Bowie singing as the Goblin King, "As the world falls down..." 

I can get lost in my inner world, but I remembered my resolve this week. With that, the labyrinth within doesn't look so hard, it comes down to an application of will. I will start with my priorities, but the most important thing is that I start.

A Moment of Significance

I took my brother's wife to the train station.We said our goodbyes on the platform, and she boarded the train. It wasn't the first time I'd dropped her off or picked her up from there, but this time it felt different. 

Perhaps it wasn't that the experience itself that was different, just that everything else had changed.

The passengers exited the train to stand in the cold and smoke, or to simply stretch their legs. Others were just boarding, going home or somewhere new. I just stood and watched in the dark and cold on a December night. Neither coming, nor going. The evening train rolled out of town soon enough.The station returned to looking abandoned and lonely.

It was a significant moment at the end of a trying year. I wondered how many people over the years had come and gone from that very point. I marveled at the stories that must be associated with their departures and returns. Even though I was neither of those things in that moment, I knew: I would have to choose. At some point, I'd be making a choice about where to go. Even if it was only a metaphor and not my moment to get aboard; I knew I could stay as long as I'd like, but I'd be unable to go back from where I'd come, and that ultimately the only choice would have to be forward, into the unknown.