I haven't really thought about why it's been so long since I've last written. If I pause, or, rather, just let my thoughts flow while my fingers fly across the keys....mostly, it's because I've gone inward more this past year and a half. I've been less willing to share my thoughts and processing, even with those near and dear. Sometimes, I've fallen out of touch with my own thoughts and processing, taking in too much of what's going on around me; what other's think, what others are doing, what other's are buying, what other's think I should think and do and buy. It's overwhelming sometimes to feel that I'm surrounded by other's energy that doesn't quite match my own, doesn't quite resonate with my values...yet, what are my values, these days? What do I value? What is of value? How do I value? Where do I place value?
I suppose in some ways I've grown quite, in response. I've tried to go inward to gather a sense of my own direction, my own energy, my own way. In small ways, I've been shifting and changing, or, perhaps better put trying to shift and change. It has felt like a slow, unceremonious process. Nothing big happening; nothing extraordinary taking place. Yet I feel, internally, in the quiet, extremely shy and sometimes shaky and dimly lit places of my psyche, that I am making a slow way to change. But, there is no clear direction, yet; rather, a process of some sort, slowly in motion. A quiet, steady internal movement towards something.....a new way of being? Yes, that's it. A hope for a lighter, clearer, more joyful way of living.
It feels glacier paced, this process, and I am quite often impatient and irritable at my own process, of striving for--exactly what--other than change, I am not entirely sure. But, change is a strive worthy existential experience (I quietly tell myself). At times, it feels a bit daunting, this process, and, other times, a bit ridiculous. I suppose though, being extremely honest with myself, that I have to admit that I like that life often rolls out in this manner--sometimes unclear, yet, in the same instance, filled with possibilities--the ironies and clarities of living daily life.