Eight attempts at writing since the last post til yesterday. I'm in some kind of mental time freeze, trying to figure out first what's going on, and secondly trying to remain being myself in the interim. I've also been procrastinating on a writing project. I didn't think I'd ever use the word "procrastination" after college, being the fairly diligent type, yet here I'm proven wrong.
What's happened in the last few months? What happened to this year? I feel like I've just been working and when I'm not, feeling too existential. I've learned that when I'm in this particular grind of work-and-identity, time goes fast. Time goes "wasted," as some might see it. While I don't see my lifestyle as neither structured nor bohemian (although I do think that I'm more structured than not), when it comes to life's gray areas, I think I subconsciously like being tormented by the bohemian middle; of not deciding, or being neither here nor there. I've learned that I can be quite masochistic. At the same time, I feel pressured to be here or there, when, I think the solution is to be okay being in the gray. I think I struggle with time-- is it truly wasted or have I accepted that everyone has their own societal-influenced concept of time, and therefore accept my own time spent living out work-and-identity?
I don't think I've ever wanted to be a "top" person. The "corporate ladder" has never been something I wanted to climb, nor felt like I needed to climb (not that I'm involved in the "corporate" world). I also never really had the desire to be someone's boss. I hear this a lot in my practice that people just want to be their own boss. Maybe I'm reading too much into it but I don't even like to think of the word "boss" when I think of myself. "Boss" implies hierarchy. I think of the concept of "being your own boss" more as just being completely independent, and maybe that's what others mean too. And that's why a position like my current career feels so in line with my career philosophy.
Doesn't not being a top person mean less income? After much processing, I know that I have a complicated relationship with money. I am one of those people who thinks that money can solve everything in one's life. Even though I can acertain all the objections to this way of thinking (which is that usually there's some health or relational aspect missing in people who do have money), I do inherently believe it (although, let's take out race in this ideology). I like to think that the only reason why I can think this way is because I generally have a satisfactory life regarding health and relationships, so naturally, I want what's missing in my life.
I don't want money to live lavishly. I want money to not worry about things that give me anxiety. Money to me is the solution to living nearly anxiety free. The irony in my love for money is that I also hate it. I have no desire to pursue it, and I don't want to understand it. It would simply be nice to have it, but I don't strive to get it (which may be its own mass of issues).
"I don't know where I'm going with this," I hear so many times in my work. I said it myself, unknowingly, yesterday, and I say it again today. I just want to practice writing again, because clearly I forgot how.
I want to regain my sense of self-- something I feel I've lost maybe for a few years now, but certainly since the beginning of this year. Someone told me it's about "owning your narrative," so I'm writing that now.
