I’m inert. And that’s not a good feeling, despite the fact that I love the definition of inertia: the tendency of an object in motion to remain in motion, or an object at rest to remain at rest. Technically, I guess that means I was inert last year during my 365 days of giving, too — it’s just that now I’m no longer on the “motion” side of the equation. And it’s making me restless.
I can’t find the rhythm in my days. I can’t seem to make myself write about the stuff I am excited about (the Unreasonable Institute’s new crop of amazing social entrepreneurs, for instance) and when I do try to write, it comes out sounding forced or stupid. I’m wasting gobs of brain cells worrying about my daughter’s truly frightening addiction to crap TV and obsessing about whether she’s going to transfer colleges in the fall. My husband has sagely suggested I lay off Lulu and worry about my own life, but why spend time thinking about yourself when you can project all your hopes & fears onto those unlucky enough to share your domicile??
Oddly, I know the answer to all this murky confusion: Get outside your own head; stop worrying about things you can’t control and start doing stuff for others; stay open; and trust that what you’re meant to do will be revealed in time. I just can’t seem to apply that quiet wisdom. Yet.
But writing helps…even this extended whine. More chipper posts soon to come!