I’m having a crisis of confidence, but I’m not allowing it.
Maybe daily discipline feels a tad excessive when all I want is a break.
A question drifts unanswered: A break from what?
It echoes through the soft meadows of my mind.
From the twisted, topsy-turvy knots of thought.
From answers that are both yes and no,
with no coat rack to hang my hat.
My compass spins as I stare blankly at the wall.
I’m in a lull, pulled by the desire to do nothing at all.
Existential dread stands like a soldier at the door,
its foreboding presence making the hairs on my arms rise.
This space is for me.
And if it’s becoming a chore, then I’ll lighten the load—
a paragraph, a line, a photo, a breath.
But what if that’s not enough?
What if I need more of a change?
Then we get curious.
We don’t make a declaration, we just start paying closer attention.
To what makes the pulse quicken. To what brings softness.
To what feels like home and what feels like holding our breath.
Change doesn’t always knock loudly.
So we follow the bread crumbs.
Not for the sake of productivity or performance,
but for the quiet pursuit of aliveness.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 