do you ever get to the point where you’re ready for a nap – from life?
just curl up and sleep for days
or maybe pause time every day for four hours and sleep
then do something for fun
something you enjoy
do something ONLY for the purpose of enjoyment and fun
and then start life up again
go back to the responsibilities, the challenges
I feel like i’m there again
because I wore myself out
I can’t even be bothered to capitalize the beginnings of my sentences. check that out! that’s a tired writer. and I didn’t even put periods on any of those ones up there.
life is a lot more than tiring, exhausting, responsibilities, and challenges
but we don’t get to see that if all we do is wear ourselves out
and then wonder
why we’re so dead outside and in
how do I get here?
again and again and again and again
it’s like i’m a record that NEVER got old enough to skip. just keeps turning and turning, playing the same songs on repeat
I know how I get here
I DON’T do anything for fun. just for the enjoyment.
those things aren’t really JUST for enjoyment. they are absolutely purposeful. they’re what keep us alive. really alive. not just faking it with our zombie walk and plastic, forced smiles.
enjoyment. fun. these things are the purpose of life
and I keep missing them
in the hustle, the bustle, and the bloody rat race to make enough money to survive
in the false belief that if I don’t __________ then i’m not a “real adult”
we make these rules up and then beat ourselves with them
and we mock people who self-flagellate! we’re doing the same thing – only in a myriad of different ways and for a thousand bucketfuls of different
today what would I like to do?
this very moment?
i’d love to go for a run with some music and no one to see
read a book
get lost in mythology
walk my dog
i’d love to work on my novel – which I have not given much commitment since it isn’t seen as a “real job” because it doesn’t make me money right this second and I’m not making myself or my calling a priority
that’s come up a few times in the past few weeks
i’m working with this woman who seems to be the feather tipping my scales of self-realization
you know how you need like a gazillion people and situations telling you the same thing until you finally allow it to not only sink in, but to accept it as truth?
sometimes I think God is probably rubbing His temples, wondering how I ever got so fully brainwashed and stuck there even though He’s sent countless people and occurrences my way to get my head straightened out
writing isn’t just something I like doing
I am good at writing (it’s hard for me to type that)
writing is my calling in life. it’s my purpose. i was made to be a writer. i am a writer. God crafted me to write stories.
and i’m suffocating
by not writing
seriously, if I didn’t blog here, on my new blog, or write in a journal, or save pins on Pinterest of fantastical creatures and myths… i’d probably be in a mental institution for real
i’m cutting myself off from myself
i’m in a constant state of moving, doing. i’m in a frenzy
could it maybe be
that if i’d take time
make it a priority
make a commitment
to use my time
brush, walk, and love my dog
get lost in a story
research fun stuff and blog on it
…that i’d not get to this point
of utter exhaustion
sure, i’d still probably
they wouldn’t hurt
If i sought out
if i tried
that i’d remember how to breathe?