Everyone gets distracted every now and then. The saddest part is that I distracted myself from, well, myself for the past year of life. I started writing because I felt like I needed to write again. I have always dreamed of writing in my "spare time" and low and behold, this past year I didn't allow myself to even HAVE spare time. I have completely gotten wrapped up in my image of what life is supposed to look like, what I am supposed to be doing, and how I can prove to others that I am good at it. Well, it may just have all been a big illusion! When you get busy, especially when you bring the business upon yourself, you don't allow yourself any time to think. THINKING IS VITAL PEOPLE! It is not just an expression, I am sure if I really looked hard I'd find psychological evidence of this fact. Here is my hypothesis:
Being too busy allows you to be constantly distracted. What distracts us, as humans, are the things we THINK are important or think we need. For example, I think that I need to be the last person at work every night to prove to all my coworkers that I work hard. Um, ok, why can't I work hard and still maintain NORMAL working hours? And why can't the joy in my students' faces (maybe not joy but at least not disdain) be all the recognition I need? We think that we need "stuff". After being robbed in November, I realized we don't need stuff, it is just stuff. I was so calm and so comforted by my calm nature at that moment that I started to see the fault in needing to buy the best, the most expensive, the most in general... So, while we are being distracted by our lives, it is really to avoid what we dread the most: having to really listen to our hearts.
I once had a friend who I thought was the coolest! I loved her sense of fashion, style of decor in her house, culinary tastes, and company. As I moved through this friendship, I started to feel like I was never good enough, never trendy enough, never going to be as beautiful or as rich as this girl wanted her friends to be. I mean, I don't own designer jeans, expensive make up, or even get my hair and nails done at top salons (or at all!) When I started to realize that I was constantly comparing myself to this other lifestyle, and I realized that it wasn't "me", I was miserable with guilt. I felt like I had lied to other people, when in reality it was myself I had been lying to all along. I am not the person I was wanting to become, and I had to really listen to my heart, as much as it was breaking, to know that I couldn't remain friends with someone who was on a totally different path than I was.
So, if you wonder where this return to the written word has come from, it is from reading! 2 weeks ago I resolved to return to activities that I knew once made me happy, but I had moved away from for far too long. I read a book again. For fun. One that I had started months ago but never finished once I got "busy". Paulo Coehlo's The Alchemist. Perhaps it is where my heart is now, or my introspection, but holy wow is that philosophical book about my life precisely. I want to read it again, picking out passages that touched me and made me want to be "me" again.
Minus the judgment, the guilt, the sadness, and the other weaknesses that have taken over me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment