Today is a going crazy kind of day. The kind of day where I sit at my computer reading about other peoples' lives and it makes me want to jump up and run out the door, splitting body into a million different pieces so I can be everywhere as once.
Today is an anxious day.
I struggle so much with the right here right now. Being present is elusive to me, unless I am somewhere new, doing something new, in which case the present is all there is.
I look at photos of people who have green in their lives - trees, grass, plants - and I listen to the cars whiz by outside my window. I wonder if I'll ever get to a point in my life where I'll have that again - a yard, I mean - and then I chastise myself for wanting something I don't have when I already have a lot, and then I feel guilty for sitting at my desk chastising myself and not doing any actual work that could move me forward to a financial place where I can have a yard, and before you know it, an hour has passed, filled with me chastising and feeling guilty and not doing.
Sometimes it's nice to just write. There is zero planning going into this blog post, and it's suiting me quite well right now, because today is a going crazy, anxious day.
I've talked a lot about vulnerability and wanting to be more open to the world, but what does that mean, exactly? Does it mean I share minutiae of my everyday life, my most insane and mundane thoughts? Or is that over-sharing? Does it mean being completely honest with an entire internet full of strangers, or do I still have to pick and choose the words that I say so that I am being honest-but-not-too-honest? I guess vulnerability means what I make it to mean. Right? Should I really care if someone reads what I write and thinks, "Uffda [apparently said anonymous reader is from Minnesota], TMI, girlfriend"? Should I really worry about what my mom and dad will think? What responsibility, if any, do I have to fit each individual's idea of what blogging should be? So many questions?
Routine has come upon me in the last few weeks, and it's not a productive one. Yesterday was productive, because I got out of bed and set a schedule for myself and checked almost everything off my list of things to do for the day. Today, not so much. All it takes is for one web site to suck me in, and I'm a goner. I've contemplated reading a chapter of a book in the morning instead of immediately reaching for my phone or laptop; I've been reading a lot more in general lately, and it has seriously cleared some shit out of my soul. I had forgotten how happy reading makes me, the physical turning of pages and the sense of accomplishment I get from watching the bookmark move from one chunk of pages to the next.
In the next month, I plan to do more soul-clearing. All that matters to me right now is movement. I don't feel myself going anywhere right now, and it's that stagnation that is probably the cause of Going Crazy Days like this one. I want to make an effort, I want to make an impact, I want to tell stories and help people and make the world a better place. And that can't happen while I'm laying in my bed, writing a blog post.