Emily left early this morning to go to a family wedding. Next week she'll be heading off to Baltimore to run the half-marathon. I'm sad to be missing both of these trips, as traveling with my lovely fiance is one of my favorite things. But part of the price of pursuing passions (unintentional alliteration) is missing out. It's this difficulty I'm running up against more, and I'm torn about whether it's a product of the time I live in, the age I'm at or the ambitions I have. Of course, like most things, it's probably a gradient blending of the three, (with some fourth, five and sixth reasons just crouching behind them, waiting for enough passing time to present themselves when it's no longer useful.)
I have all the normal fears of wasted potential, but so much of it hinges on my future self being disappointed with the decisions I'm making now. Only I currently have no regrets for what my past self has done: Those actions have made me who I am today and I like that person. I think the big fear stems from there existing an act so irrevocably bad that when I make it, I will become a regretful person. Or that there is a "point of no return" in aging where I realize there are things I will never get to do. But if I had wanted to do them, they would have been done.
This is where my frustration spirals. Despite "logic-ing" my way out of the anxieties in the realm of head-space, the heart space or lizard-brain-land creeps in the default switch, reverting everything back to an ape normal. And I have rejigger my way back out all over again. It's in those moments of reversion, when I realize I've been on this road before and I know what I have to do to get back. That's when the Sisyphus loops play out and I crave course correction. That can take a dismal route if I'm in a dark mindset, but most of the time all it takes is a good song or a long train ride to cleanse the circular palette and start up from a new point of reference.
Yetch. I get all reflecty without the Kuehn.
Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Solipsistic" from Michael Underhill while he was applying makeup in a bald cap and dirty red boots. For those unfamiliar, it relates to the notion that only the self exists, or that the self is the only thing that can be proven to exist and that everything and everyone else is a fabrication/illusion)
Today's "365" Project (make a ball out of something...or do something with a ball.)
"So I was drunk coming home and it was already 1 am so I rushed around the house to find something that either resembled a ball or could be made into a ball. And then I got hungry and thought "Oh man, bread is malleable." and then took out one of the heels of a current loaf and balled it up and took a picture of it. That is the story and title of this entry. Hope it makes up for the crappyness of the post in general."
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I have all the normal fears of wasted potential, but so much of it hinges on my future self being disappointed with the decisions I'm making now. Only I currently have no regrets for what my past self has done: Those actions have made me who I am today and I like that person. I think the big fear stems from there existing an act so irrevocably bad that when I make it, I will become a regretful person. Or that there is a "point of no return" in aging where I realize there are things I will never get to do. But if I had wanted to do them, they would have been done.
This is where my frustration spirals. Despite "logic-ing" my way out of the anxieties in the realm of head-space, the heart space or lizard-brain-land creeps in the default switch, reverting everything back to an ape normal. And I have rejigger my way back out all over again. It's in those moments of reversion, when I realize I've been on this road before and I know what I have to do to get back. That's when the Sisyphus loops play out and I crave course correction. That can take a dismal route if I'm in a dark mindset, but most of the time all it takes is a good song or a long train ride to cleanse the circular palette and start up from a new point of reference.
Yetch. I get all reflecty without the Kuehn.
Haiku of the Day:
Halogen bathes dank
spaces in ultraviolet
sheens of pale sickness
spaces in ultraviolet
sheens of pale sickness
Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "Solipsistic" from Michael Underhill while he was applying makeup in a bald cap and dirty red boots. For those unfamiliar, it relates to the notion that only the self exists, or that the self is the only thing that can be proven to exist and that everything and everyone else is a fabrication/illusion)
Today's "365" Project (make a ball out of something...or do something with a ball.)
"So I was drunk coming home and it was already 1 am so I rushed around the house to find something that either resembled a ball or could be made into a ball. And then I got hungry and thought "Oh man, bread is malleable." and then took out one of the heels of a current loaf and balled it up and took a picture of it. That is the story and title of this entry. Hope it makes up for the crappyness of the post in general."
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