Sometimes, my “why” seems to be in a land far, far away – that elusive reason behind the things I do. Take this blog, for instance; today, I haven’t got a clue. The heaviness behind my eyes, the soreness in the back of my throat – possibly the beginnings of a cold. It’s not an ideal state for writing; the raw vulnerability doesn’t lend itself well to putting words on paper, especially words meant for both you and me. Because, let’s face it, you might see my flaws, and that’s not what I want.
I fear you’ll witness how scatter-minded I am, how inconsistent I am in practicing Spanish or working out, and you’ll not like hearing how certain people drain my energy to the point where I actively avoid them. It bothers me that I’m a counselor, partly because of the perceptions people have of me. I fight against it, struggling to be myself despite the expectations.
Right now, I feel like I’m walking in a circle, repeatedly, with no particular destination in mind. I prefer to know where I’m going, and maybe that’s part of the struggle. Perhaps it’s okay for me to fall apart occasionally, to let a seam burst and an eyeball metaphorically fall out. Daily, people come into my office and fall apart, and that’s perfectly acceptable. I want to extend that same grace to myself – not permanently, not for an entire week, but maybe I’ll start with tonight.
When I take things too seriously, they consume me. It’s as if I can tuck them into an inner fold of my brain, ensuring I can’t forget about them. Thoughts from a “wrong” session haunt me throughout the day. Did I handle it well? Was I too direct? Should I have been gentler, more compassionate, or perhaps silent? I obsess over my behavior, but without the person’s feedback, I wouldn’t know if my approach was helpful or hurtful. I know! How about instead of obsessing about it, I ask.
Sharing my thoughts wasn’t as bad as I expected. Maybe I’ll come back and do it again tomorrow.
Take care. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 