So many thoughts ramble through my head and seemingly disconnected thoughts at that. I like to be busy, but then I feel like I never get any down time. I get down time and then I feel lazy for just sitting around.
I enjoy being a plant-based clean eater, but don’t want to come across as picky and high maintenance. I feel so much better when I am on my “veggie fruit smoothies, breakfast salad, whole grains, beans, greens diet”, and then my husband make this amazing smoked pork, the smell permeating my house, and my car, and taunting my post-long run hungries. No. I couldn’t resist.
I like to enjoy a drink or two and have fun with loved ones and friends, but feel guilty in the middle of the night for drinking too much. (‘Too much’ usually meaning 2). I get anxious that drinking alcohol is going to damage my heart, and that I shouldn’t drink at all. I do the same thing with coffee.
I love Rich Roll and his family and his total grooviness and spirituality, and think, YES! that’s how we should be living. And then I think, well I don’t want to be that weird hippy family that no one wants to be around. I want to be happy with my life and how we are living it, and yet think that we are wasting a whole lot of time and it will be over before I know it. How many hours are spent sitting on the couch accomplishing nothing? What would make me feel like my life was a life not wasted?
I want to figure out what really is the desire of my heart and do it. I love to write. I love to pour out my heart and all my fucking crazy thoughts that bounce around in my head. I like to teach and encourage people.
I don’t have the desire to be famous or wealthy or ‘a local community leader’, but I do want to make a difference. And I don’t believe that I am the only one that feels this way or thinks this way and I think a lot of frustration and anxiety and depression that we have in our society stems from people wanting to make a difference, from wanting to make a change, to make things better, to do what they’ve always dreamed but feeling not good enough or smart enough or able enough to do it.
I think part of Brice’s disillusionment with this life was that he wanted to make things better, he wanted to help his friends that didn’t have anyone else, and I think it crushed him thinking that he couldn’t fix everybody. Obviously I could be wrong and I may never know for sure, but I understand that feeling.
I think lots of people get fucked up with social media, seeing what other people are doing, and supposedly how great their lives are and how perfect they look and how many “friends” they have, and it’s all a farce, but they see that and think, I’m not that pretty or successful or popular or whatever. That’s part of the reason I post the bad shit too, and I don’t filter my face pictures and I post the ugly ones and the good ones and share the good and the bad, because that’s life. It isn’t perfect. It isn’t what other people are saying and doing. It’s the good and the bad and the hard and the blessings and the cursing and the wrinkles and the fat and the boring dinners and the cheap wine and the messy house and it’s not perfect and why would you want it to be?
We do so much comparing to other people. I do it. I don’t like it, but it happens. I just told my friend this morning that I see how much some others on Twitter are running compared to me, and I’m the one that’s supposed to be training for an ultra or two. And I think how the hell do they spend that much time every day running or training? I only have so many hours outside of work that I can spend training, cooking, cleaning, spending time with my husband and kids, trying to keep up with my yard work and gardening and a blog and don’t even get me started on that big pile of mail and paperwork that is taking over the top of my goddam dresser again. Where does all that shit come from?
I’m not a neat freak so I’m not freaking out about the house not being perfect, and thankfully my daughter Chelsea has taken over the major kitchen duties, and neither her or Wayne like how I load the dishwasher. We seem to be transforming into a community duty house – it’s long over due – where it’s not my responsibility to do a, b & c, all the time. We all work and go to school and whoever has time, does the chores. It’s not a perfected method yet, because there always seems to be some extenuating circumstances, like when Wayne was home all day but was sick and dying in bed. But back to my rant.
There are just so many ways I would like to change my life, to pursue the desires of my heart. To make the sacrifices necessary to get and stay debt free. To be willing to risk it all to follow a passion. And to follow it with all my heart. I’m tired of lazy. I’m tired of the “I’d really like to fill in the blank one day”. But am I willing to risk the comforts, the easy, the certainty. Does it matter? Or is following that “follow your dream, step out, take the risk” just following the dreams of someone else again? Is it the same thought process of wanting to be like the “perfect” people we see on social media and tv?
I am 46 years old and am still trying to decide “who” I want to be. Sometimes I feel like a chameleon…or maybe a fraud. Who am I really? Am I really the optimist that I claim to be? Because she’s not there in the middle of the night when my heart is beating fast, and my mind is racing, and I’m certain that there is a problem with my heart that could possibly kill me on my 50 mile race and it’s all because I drank a martini AND a beer in the same night. Although she does speak up and tell me I’m being ridiculous and to go back to sleep. Am I really the confident woman I claim to be, even when I feel like I’m getting called to the principal’s office when I make a mistake on a tax return work? Is it true that I generally don’t care what other people think of me? I find myself in the middle of an on going identity crisis – with who I want to be, who I present myself to be, and who I am in the quiet of my own mind. There is a constant battle of thoughts and ideas and passions going on inside this head and heart of mine. There are some characters, so personas that will never be on the list. I guess that is good. There are some that have been on the list a long time and some previous actors have been eliminated from competition.
All the voices. All the disconnected thoughts. All the ramblings and comparisons and misgivings. How do I quiet them? How do I feel connected and genuine? I think you know the answer to that.
See you on the trail.
7 thoughts on “This Post has No Title”
Sing it, sister! It’s so easy to compare our insides to other people’s outsides. I waste so much time stressing about how I’m not good enough, and I never make a difference to anybody, and what am I doing with my life, and also my house is a mess and I forgot to buy dog food.
Breathe, run, love each other, do what we can and embrace the imperfection, that’s all I know to do.
Sing it, sister! It’s so easy to compare our insides to other people’s outsides.
I waste so much time stressing about how I’m not good enough, how I never make a difference to anyone, how I have no idea what my purpose is and why the hell am I not out finding it and doing it and also my house is a mess and I forgot to buy dog food.
Breathe, run, love each other, do what we can, and embrace the imperfections. That’s all I know how to do.
YES!! And the reality is, we DO make a difference by breathing, running and loving each other.
Excellent. Now I don’t have to write this post because you already did. Life here is almost identical to yours, just from a single-guy-with-a-daughter point of view. Most days running is all I have to look forward to. Too bad I can’t just run from now until I collapse. Great writing Angela!
Thank you Bill. I’d love to hear it from your brain.
Oh my sole sister, you and me both! You took the words and thoughts right out of my head. I keep thinking I’ll figure it all out and then one day passes into the next and so forth and so forth and I’m still trying to figure it out. And I’d want to be around your weird hippy family. 😀
I bet we figure out a few things over the course of 100 miles. Love you!