My Fucking Feelings 01/03/18

Today I feel like a Wednesday. Not because it actually is Wednesday but I’m not hopeless like Monday or excited like Friday. I’m not high like Saturday or relaxed like Sunday. I’m just in between. Feels like I’ve come half way.

This has been my general state lately. In life. Both professional and personal although I feel like my they’re one of the same, being a writer / blogger. I’m almost in my mid forties, shut up I’m 44 not 45!!!, and I feel like I’ve just now come half way. I’ve always been a late bloomer. Monday was my divorce. Tuesday was my rebirth. Now I’ve got my routine, my tribe, my space to create. I’ve got projects I’m excited about. But I’m not there yet as far as where I want to be, and that’s the big thing I’ve been questioning. What exactly is there? Because as we get closer, the marker just moves. I know this because when I was working in non profit and punching a clock, if I was to show myself then my life today, this would have been my “there”. But today, here doesn’t feel like there. If that makes sense. I think “there” is a trap. A mirage. Yes, I think you need to get past survival mode (debts, jobs that suck your soul, abusive relationship, etc) in order for life to be decent, but then pay attention to the coast. The feeling on a bike when you’re going just fast enough to take both hands off the handlebars. That moment. That’s where I feel like I am now. And there’s a part of me that wants to put my head down and race. Because I see others doing it. But I won’t notice the trees anymore. And I need to notice trees. I need to sit still. I need to be more spirit filled to do what I’m supposed to do. Things happens when you’re ready. There is a time to race. There is a time to power through. Thursday and Friday will come. But these days, my life is Wednesday and I know I just need to look around and by look around I mean inward.

I have this written vision board I carry in my phone of all the things I want. Of course I still want everything on that list but it’s not tied to who I am anymore. It’s almost whimsical. Just one story. Of many in my pocket.

  • Angry

Author of “I Used To Be A Miserable F*CK” . IG: theangrytherapist.

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