I never really know what I'm going to do from one minute to the next. Some days I'm very content while other days I'm restless to no end. I am not sure what scares me most the contentment or restlessness.
To be content at times makes me feel as though I've settled for something. I feel as though my life is okay to remain mundane and boring. Never once when I was younger did I think that was me. I was always going to be out there. Racing for the stars, saying what I feel writing my heart out and having it heard. I wanted to be something. I wanted to be noticed. Somehow I lost this somewhere. In between kids and a normal career I lost a lot. I lost me.
Now don't get me wrong. I love my children. They make me happy and make me smile. I just feel like I'm always locked into this life of schedules and routines. Always having something to do is tedious.
Some days I get thoughts in my head for my book and I have to just let them go thinking I'll remember later. Nine times out of ten I forget them because the events of the day have drove them so far from my memory that I forget they were there in the first place.
Being restless though is no better. Nothing is wrong with wanting more. Not being sure how to get it and not wanting to wait in one place makes it difficult to achieve things though. I've had days where I feel like the lion at the zoo pacing back and forth is more relaxed than me. Cages or a house it all works out to be the same thing in the end. You can never truly run free. There is always something that holds you there. Maybe my feeling of contentment is truly false. Maybe it's my minds way of making it okay. Even though I never really will be. It isn't because I don't love the stuff I have or the people in my life but I feel as though I am not reaching my potential.
I guess I should remember ” Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act”. Thank you Truman Capote.
I just hope I haven't gotten to the bad third act yet.
To be content at times makes me feel as though I've settled for something. I feel as though my life is okay to remain mundane and boring. Never once when I was younger did I think that was me. I was always going to be out there. Racing for the stars, saying what I feel writing my heart out and having it heard. I wanted to be something. I wanted to be noticed. Somehow I lost this somewhere. In between kids and a normal career I lost a lot. I lost me.
Now don't get me wrong. I love my children. They make me happy and make me smile. I just feel like I'm always locked into this life of schedules and routines. Always having something to do is tedious.
Some days I get thoughts in my head for my book and I have to just let them go thinking I'll remember later. Nine times out of ten I forget them because the events of the day have drove them so far from my memory that I forget they were there in the first place.
Being restless though is no better. Nothing is wrong with wanting more. Not being sure how to get it and not wanting to wait in one place makes it difficult to achieve things though. I've had days where I feel like the lion at the zoo pacing back and forth is more relaxed than me. Cages or a house it all works out to be the same thing in the end. You can never truly run free. There is always something that holds you there. Maybe my feeling of contentment is truly false. Maybe it's my minds way of making it okay. Even though I never really will be. It isn't because I don't love the stuff I have or the people in my life but I feel as though I am not reaching my potential.
I guess I should remember ” Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act”. Thank you Truman Capote.
I just hope I haven't gotten to the bad third act yet.
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