I have a tendency after a birthday to start getting ambitious about accomplishing some things. As someone who tends toward the type B personality, this usually means some pretty modest ambition. The cats will be brushed! Every damn day! I will write something at some point! Every damn day! When I slice up peppers for dinner, I will not slice only half and then grumble later when the other half that was not immediately needed is still unsliced!
I know, these are probably basic things for most people.
A part of this mad drive for organization and well prepped food stuffs is the underlying belief that doing these things will create a sense of winning. I assure you, it rarely does.
I wonder sometimes how many of the things that we do are just inventions to waste our time and distract us from meaningful interactions. Thus, I assume that a portion of my life is relegated to vacuuming fur and scrubbing my shower and this is at the expense of say, enjoying time with friends or feeling rooted to the earth when I lie in the grass. I don’t want to just brush the cat, I want to hold her because I’m aware every minute that she is impermanent and so am I.
For some, that impermanence leads to a desire to create something more permanent. A song. A building. A business. For me, that might be my writing. Instead, I find that I wonder at the reason that others desire that enduring self. I want to hold onto and show gratitude for those who have touched my life and to feel alive to the earth and all of its animals.
Still, here I am blogging. And writing my stories. I guess it is just a part of me that wants its space in my life. Well, ok then. Here’s to writing. Here’s to creating something. Maybe that’s just another way of connecting.