I'm not completely sure why.
I don't know that I feel like figuring it out.
I've poured out so much time and energy and angst and anxiety here. I've analyzed, whined, interpreted, worried, questioned, doubted—I could go on and on. There have been delightful parts too, amazing moments, outrageous experiences, super highs to balance out the bottom of the barrel lows.
Maybe I'm tired of the exploration.
Maybe feeling less intense is a nice break.
I almost miss the drive, the energy, being compelled and driven, but not quite. It's feeling ok to be. Just be. Sitting with what is not what might be or what was before.
I'm learning how to be me in the moment, not me defined by a project, not me spinning my wheels at insane levels to accomplish more.
Having said that, maybe I have to make more of an effort so as not to get lost for too long in this place. I'm setting a new 40 day sadhana of writing every day.
We'll see where that takes me.
Day 1 is wondering where my laundry cards are and if anyone's interested in what I have to say anymore.