Balance

I'm feeling like my life consists only of my job, writing, reading a lot of words, yoga, movies (or, watching people I don't know pretend to be people they are not), music, and sometimes creating jewelry and this blog. That's essentially my week. And then start it all over again on a never-ending loop.


If I had it my way, I'd live secluded in a house on a beach. I'd write. And read. And make jewelry. And watch whatever I felt like watching. I'd do pretty much what I do now, except without the people in it (and less computer time). But the truth is that I need the people.


Most days it's hard for me; I take on people's energy. I try to never take it, and there is a difference. A big one that most wouldn't recognize. But there are too many people who take other people's energy, mostly along the lines of even just thinking, "I'm better at this than that person, so I'm better than they are." I think to some degree, as human beings, we can't help it. It's survival of the fittest. But this is energy that suits no one. It is the enemy of refinement, of peace, of happiness. It is everything that's wrong with our culture.


But taking on other people's energy is more like crying because someone else is crying because you understand their pain. It's a burden. And I'm learning to only observe and wish people well, but to not take on. That is the beauty of constantly being surrounded by people: they help me learn about myself. I would never learn these things on my own.


The majority of the time I'm content with the simplicity of my life. I don't find a lot of enjoyment in doing new things all the time. New makes me anxious, because new usually means I'm by myself with people I don't know. It's exhausting. And there's a lot of joy for me in the known. Knowing that I get to write when I get home, knowing when my next yoga class is, knowing I get paid every-other Tuesday (thank the Lord for a steady paycheck and an awesome job I know I'm so lucky to have :). The only unknowns I like are the big ones that haven't happened yet, but I can imagine: what my husband is like, what our house will look like, the places we'll go together, how amazing my book will be when it's done...


This is not a rant. At all. This is simply an observation. My life is not fulfilled. I am not fulfilled. I do not have a metaphoric clock that is running out, but I do miss a life I haven't had yet. In reality, that list of unknowns is far too much longer than the knowns. Don't get me wrong, I know as that list of unknowns starts to shrink, life will suddenly be overwhelming to the point of feeling the need to retract all previous complaints of simplicity. Because I like simplicity. Just with more doses of the non-simplistic. If that makes any sense.


I suppose we all just need our own balance.