A barrage of thoughts streaming through my head tonight about what to write. I have so many drafts…
I want to write SO many things, but can’t seem to pin it down to one thing specifically. Not one thought or feeling in me lately leads to a writing, lest I become the whiner I do not want to become. That’s not to say the things are necessarily ‘whining’ things, just too much of maybe me not cutting the mustard to speak of out loud, any more than I already have. Yes I know, ridiculous standards of mine…
Still, I can’t be the the only one who feels-or has felt-overwhelmed by things, people,stuff… to the point of desperately needing to get away to the quiet. Be still my mind. When I meditated this morning I literally could not make my head shut up as I worked to see the colors of my mind, cleanse my chakra, and just breathe. I just couldn’t. Even my prayers had ADD and I found myself apologizing to God for it several times. Focus, where have you gone?
Money (not enough), work (NOW it gets crazy?!) vacation (17 days and counting), camper anxiety (it is supposed to arrive one DAY before we leave), kids schedules (I need a lacrosse break), porch project (I am going to get that damn thing painted this weekend if it’s the only thing I do–well, after my race of course…), getting my miles in for the week, kickboxing, and a total overhaul of my detoured diet (that’s another post by itself).
I don’t need it to necessarily slow down, I just have to get it under control. Because I’m not currently driving my bus. That’s the plan isn’t it? Feel like I’m driving the bus instead of letting life just happen to me? It’s a sense of control, yes, but it’s more than that. Proactive not reactive is all I want/need/desire.
Chaos is inevitable, and what makes you mice or men is how you deal with it. I can be all things I need to be. I will get my motivation back. And I shall drive my damn bus again!
Did I mention vacation is 17 days away? Yeah, the reset button gets a punch on the 28th – ass in chair, drink in hand, feet in sand, and smiles on my family’s carefree faces. That’s a special, rather intimate brand of chaos isn’t it?
Can. Not. Wait.