Investigations

Hibernating since last October, I am hushed in my being. A chrysalis surrounds my internal wonder leaving me feeling uncertain, unimaginative, and out of place.

'I need to stop moving so that I may process my life...' I said. 'Why put the reigns on exploring?' I asked in response to myself. 'To fit into the appropriate place of life-' I snapped back, mentally criticizing and aware of how I am tough on myself.

Thinking something critically damaging doesn't feel good. What does 'appropriate' mean in this instance? What am I comparing myself to? And what value does comparing have? And what other story is even comparable to mine? There is no competition.

Focus. What if I sit still, and quietly focus on my breath? How do all of my life experiences leave me feeling unaccomplished? The vacancy sign burnt out.

I used to have more words.

noW trying to draft a pHilosophy, i am rEvisiting old paRagraphs of minE hoping to find A seMblance of myself. perhaps my mInd needs to forgive my heart?

What did I do before- (well it was different then) -what do I do now with what I know?

I don't know the utility of myself.

Formula
girl + access to a major metropolitan area = an impetus to be and become
variables: mental demand, physical demand, move fast, habitually tired

Is busy, productive? How do I qualify significance?

let's try the mountains
girl + the rural mountains =
variables: slower, less people, less demand, more time? safe feeling


I know I am shifting. The leaves are falling and rustling. I trust this truth to be temporary.

Evolutionary.