Often in my writing I seek to have a ‘solution’ with every ongoing thought. I never want to be the person who stands there and points at a problem, I want to find greater context– find a silver lining, find a way to move forward, understand the truth in the anxiety… That is why I don’t write as often as I’m inspired to. I put pressure on the stirrings of my mind to be rich in texture, worried that they’re not complete enough–necessary enough to be typed into words.
I’m trying really hard to be satisfied with my somewhat coherent thoughts and incomplete ideas.
I want to accept these incomplete thoughts and appreciate their value for what they’re worth, etched into my heart and mind in the spur of the moment.
I feel the weight of this time of the year, where the excitement of spring has faded and I find myself just craving the light of the end of the tunnel that is summer, scraping by with little room for safety.
Each week I find myself burning the candle at both ends, pushing myself to give more than I can… to stay awake longer than I should. I wake up early the next morning, too early out of fear of not outputting enough in the day.
But what is this trend in busyness? What is this trend in doing more than our own capabilities? Is this a result at my own perseverance to be diligent in my work or my own phobias of not doing enough in my own endeavors?
The heart of busyness, is it a state of mind or a new trend in the heart of every hard working adult?
Every hour brings a new weight of tired eyes and a growing list of chores at home still needing completion…
Maybe that truly is the heart of busyness, the reign of unending questions with no space to let them be answered, accomplish plenty but bringing about new bullet points on your to-do lists… the ability to embrace responsibilities but avoiding the ones that do not require our immediate action, the era of quantity being more fashionable than quality… the time to be a human doing and not a human being.