It has been a while since I have been able to sit down and write. Its’ not for lack of desire, and on occasion, lack of trying. Life has become too full for me, and the space that I have outside of my day job has become full of emotional TLC and basic responsibilities. I can manage to take out the trash, walk the dogs, and finish laundry but the remaining time of the day I just feel like I can’t do anything. Or, maybe I can go to the store to pick up a few items. Forget about actually grocery shopping- I don’t have the energy nor the foresight to plan and I definitely don’t have the energy to carry groceries to my fourth-floor apartment. Plus, the burden of unbagging and putting away the groceries is the icing on top of the cake that I can’t bear to even think about because it is just too much.
Needless to say, writing has not happened. And even as I find myself writing this now, lurking in the back of my mind are all of the thoughts telling me that this post probably won’t even get finished. But still, I persist.
I am finding myself at a… well shit, not even at a cross roads because a cross roads implies that there are clear paths to go down. I’m just at a wall. The wall can be a lot of things (time, work, general adulting, emotions, relationships) but it boils down to not being able to do the things that are fulfilling and the impact that it has on the world around me. Work is probably my biggest issue as it affects not just what happens in my work day but also my responsibilities, time, and relationships. I am not sure what to do.
Perhaps I need to take a leap of faith- though it is hard to leap when I am staring down, or rather up, against the tallest wall I have ever seen. So instead of a leap, I need to climb. I can pick out a hand hold there that I can grab onto and a place for my foot to go over there but I cannot climb this wall without a rope, harness, and safety net. Can I be taking a leap of faith if I try to climb this wall and fall to my death? Probably not. And I am definitely being dramatic about the dying part… or am I? I mean… literal death may not befall me, but what do I have in my life that is growing, even slowly despite the inhospitable environment, that could suddenly see a sharp decline in health once I start this climb? My relationship? My financial stability? Any feeling of security for the future? I can guarantee every plant in my apartment will likely perish, but that’s because I have not been able to keep a plant alive. Ever.
So I can climb. No rope or harness, just me. Its terrifying. The other option is to stay here, in front of this damn wall and continue to have it loom over me, representing everything that I am not doing but could be. Neither option is easy or comfortable. Sitting in front of the wall is at least more familiar than climb up it would be. But… how many great people did great things staring up from the bottom of a mountain?