My lower back hurts a bit from deadlifts at Crossfit on Monday.
My nose and sinuses feel like they are filled with 50gallons of thick liquid.
I didn’t go to Crossfit yesterday. I did today. Let’s just say I feel a bit drained.
I just got out of the bathtub.
I was thinking in there. It is one of my favorite places to think. Something about being alone, naked, and surrounded by water is one of the most freeing feelings in the world.
I was just thinking about this catalog of classes my mom sent me. They all look soooooooooo fascinating. I want to spend my life taking them all!
Then, immediately after that thrillingly positive thought, a self-sabotaging voice robbed me of my joy by reminding me that I’m not really good at anything.
What am I good at?
If I was good at something, wouldn’t I be doing it by now?
I mean, ok, I am good at some things.
But none of those things are things that fill my interest long enough for me to spend entired days, weeks, years doing at the request/command/service of someone else.
Am I that much of a rebel? Seriously.
Do I only enjoy things when they are not ask/required of me?
If so, I’m a hopelessly sad human being doomed to a life of disappointment, grief, failure, and lost opportunity.
I have not yet found the intersection of my abilities and my interests/passions.
I feel like that Venn diagram is just two complete circles sitting about 3 inches from one another. No overlap. How sad.
I watch inspiring videos online. I meet inspiring people everyday. I read inspiring books, articles, and stories. I have inspiring friends and family.
But inspiration for WHAT?!
That I don’t know.
ANd that not knowing kills me. Because I feel like by almost-26 I should know. Or, if not ‘know’, then at least have a better idea of and be moving towards.
I’m not moving towards anything I feel like a boat adrift at sea. I may be going somewhere, but I have no fucking clue where it is or when (if ever) I’ll get there.
Is this what life is supposed to be?
If so, I’m #winning this! I’m so on fire with this whole going-nowhere-not-knowing thing that I could probably win a gold medal at it. But, then see, I’d be trying to do it and asked to do it and most likely fuck it up.
Just sailing adrift is something I do naturally. Just surviving. Getting by. Inspired by the sun and the sea and the birds and the fish and the way the wind blows and sings to me and the way the weather changes like it is painting a picture that it is never satisfied with. But, I myself not being an active inspiration to any of it. Just taking in all the beauty and not giving any back. A glutton for inspiration, passion, beauty, creativity and innovation…but never a participant or active giver–only receiving and consuming at a ferocious pace.
Weighing down my little boat adrift here at sea. Feeling heavier and heavier.
Until the wind picks up, or the sun comes out, or clouds roll in or by, or a bird flies low overhead…
And I get distracted.
And want to follow that inspiration.
But am reminded that I’m not the wind.
Or the sun.
Nor can I fly.
So, I’m back in the boat. Going nowhere.