In the process of feeling lost, I am finding myself. Thought I always knew myself but realize I have been living somewhat on the run all my life. Dependent on fulfillment from the outwards-in rather than from the inwards-out. I really never thought I was like this. I thought I had this handled. As I am getting older, the fluff that I have lived by to some extent is becoming more apparent. More apparent when life slows down and I am sitting with myself.
What is my purpose? I’ve always had a purpose. Whether it was a career goal, raising my daughter, being a wife or girlfriend etc. There was a reason “to do”. Now, with my daughter on her own, me pretty much on my own and a “block” on what my career goals are, I am in a place where the focus is pretty much wholely on me. This could be a very good thing. I realize this. I cannot wrap it around my head or grip it in my stomach right now, as I am still in the raw, but I can see the good. The raw of seeing my truths, my empty buckets, my missing or dented pieces.
So in the midst of these awarenesses that can be pretty hard to swallow and painful to feel, I am also grateful that I am on this end of the spectrum. I’d rather be here (aware), so I can then work on making it better (even if it’s only a centimeter at a time), rather than there (distracted), walking around in a fog, hitting the same roadblocks year after year without any relief that comes from change, no matter how small.