I find myself looking for someone else to tell me what I’m doing is good. Is important. Is valuable. I keep trying to convince myself I’m intrinsically motivated, but I don’t trust my own opinion enough. I’d like to be. I want to be. But maybe only because I’ve heard other people say I should. I wonder if there’s a right way to do anything. If there is an answer to, “What should I focus on? What should I pour attention into?” I wonder if there is ever an answer to a “should” question at all.
Even now. I’m spending all my time writing. Reaching out and connecting. I’m doing the hard work. I’m growing and I find it fulfilling. But when I get home at night I still look at Mason with puppy-eyes and hope he’ll agree this is significant. I still feel like it doesn’t count if people don’t share the stuff I write, don’t comment, don’t hit “like”. As if what I get out of it is somehow tied to what you get out of it. Continue reading →
We keep looking for “the thing”. Something that will make us happy or explain why we’re miserable. A mysterious action or habit or new discovery that will make everything else fall into place. I keep thinking I’ll be able to define a part of myself I can pin everything else to. Scaffolding. The active ingredient of my person. Everything else is just there for filler. Continue reading →
He said he wants to make his mark on the world. Said he’s afraid he’s running out of time. “You have to do that shit before you’re 35 or it’s not going to happen.”
The number used to be lower. It was 30 when we were 25, it was 25 when we were 20. It keeps moving, but I wonder if we do. I told him I’m not so worried about the world. I want to make a mark on myself. I want to look at my life and know I did something that matters to me. No longer satisfied with the idea of just staying alive. I want to build something. Continue reading →