I heard it said once that if you're questioning your sanity then that means you're sane because insane people do not question their own sanity...uh-huh. I don't believe myself to be insane. I am human, and with that comes some pretty crazy shit. The end.
I do, however, question my choices, sometimes. I question how much I allow my emotions to drive the daily decisions I make. I would love, at times, to be able to put my nose to the grindstone and do something I don't want to do to accomplish something I want in the long run. What do they call that? Discipline? Ahh, self-discipline. I feel like self-discipline has always played a cruel little trick on me my whole life. Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but I feel like it taunts me, from somewhere just out of my reach, and the only reason I want it is because I can't have it. Or maybe that's my lame excuse for not making the necessary changes to obtain it. Maybe. Maybe...it's a lot easier to sit here and whine about who I wish I was then it is to actually get off my butt and do something about it. I like who I am more than I ever have before...but I must not become complacent and think that this is good enough. Part of me thinks this is just fine, and knows I will grow and change with time and through experiences that are beyond my control...it's inevitable. The other part of me thinks time is of the essence, and there's no time like the presence to get off my butt and get moving...even if I don't always know where I'm going, exactly. Clean your room, do your homework, make some dinner, write a blog, take a shower, call your mother, pay your bills, go out and meet a nice man...why? Why should I? Because that's what everyone does...but why? Why do you spend half the day thinking about what you should make or have for dinner? Why do you go to a job and continually look for a better one? Why do you make goals for a future you don't even know will happen? How do you walk by people who are hurting and ignore them because you have things to do? We all do it. We all ignore people who might make us feel called to a different action than the one we are in the midst of in that moment. Sometimes I wonder if I have the urge to drop what I'm doing and help because it might be easier than whatever I am responsible for in that moment. As if helping is an escape for me rather than a necessity or intrusion. It's easier to live poor because it weighs less. Maybe that's what makes it right. Maybe that's what makes it wrong. Somewhere deep I know the answer...but it doesn't seem to stop me from asking questions.
I have found myself in a different place in my mind than I thought I was when this writing began. The desire for truth remains, however. I do not want my emotions to guide me unless it is the truth...I have a sinking feeling that oftentimes I am deceived by my own feelings. Ha. The alone time allows me to separate it all out, and begin to piece it all back together in a way that makes more sense...well, to me, at least. I know a lot of times people think I am...odd. I'm sure I could throw a few more words in there, but for now, odd will work. :) I have tried to figure out what people wanted from me, and played the part as best I could. I have also fought hard against it, and stuck out a metaphorical middle finger at the world through my actions, or inaction. I have cared, and worked tirelessly to the point of exhaustion, and I have sat, detached, stubborn, and immobile. I have woken up in the middle of the night, contemplating life. I have gone through the motions, and I have slept soundly, knowing it all works out in the end. Sometimes, I have gone through all of these things in the course of a single day. Believe me, nobody knows better than me how...odd...I am. I fight it...and embrace it...all the time.
In the end, though...it's not really about me, is it?
No comments:
Post a Comment