Going Somewhere?

I know I said a lot about finding balance and all that . . . Yadda yadda, blah. To say true, I haven’t been half as productive as I should have been in the last few weeks, and I know it—you better believe I do. Balance is a tricky thing. It’s one of those things that sounds really easy, and might seem really easy at first too, but just like any bad habit or addiction, the old ways come back. It’s easy to overlook the real dragon and spend all your time smashing replicas. You know, vases are just vases.

Actually, as I sit here now what’s running through my head is DUDE, YOU GOTTA WRITE SOMETHING, ANYTHING.

And yet I’m still sitting here, and all I can think of is all I’ve said on balance, and all I’ve NOT done to find my own.

It’s plenty easy to just live. Billions of people are just living. I have been just living for the entirety of my life, short as it may be. Let me tell you, living isn’t satisfying. No, its the above-and-beyond-the-board stuff that really brings satisfaction, things that you can cross off the old bucket list. But how to actually get those things done? How to find that fulfillment? Ahm, the million-dollar question!

I know it certainly doesn’t seem to be working well for me. I can’t help but consider the different courses of my alternative universes . . . In one I’m unemployed, writing like mad every second of my life, posting on my blog every day, and trolling when I’m not posting in hopes of dragging in enough traffic to make my blog worth something. In that same universe I’m feeling pretty good about myself on a personal level, content to a degree in the beauteous knowing that my life is centered upon what I love to do the most. It’s a good life. Except for one thing… one little insignificant thing…

In the other I’m working. I’m not writing. I’m playing xbox, watching shows, reading books, graphic novels, all in my spare time, all when I should be writing. I’ve no motivation because I’m just living. And I’m not satisfied.

Well shucks little buddy, I think we chose the wrong life!
And it’s possible I did. It’s possible I’m stuck in a universe that I shouldn’t be in, drinking the blood of a demon I shouldn’t have knowledge of. But on the same tolken I’m going to buy the possibility that this ugly universe might yet hold something splendid for me. And anyhow, I’ve left out the best part about the first universe . . . the part where I’m literally DYING of stress.

You know, I’ve never actually thought of myself as a very stressful person. To my knowledge I’m very calm and relaxed. I don’t care about the world, and I let it be; I certainly don’t care much for what others do in it. I know I have a ton and a half of tolerance . . . I can put up with almost anything.

But not stress. They say it kills, and they don’t lie. I can testify to that. I can literally feel it worming its way into me, tearing me apart. And its all because I don’t know where the money to pay the next bill is coming from. Yep, that’s it! I can put up with anything, EXCEPT not trusting ka.

I think if I could put a name to it, I’d call it absolute faithlessness syndrome. I suppose that’s really what it is. It’s an inability to just let be and let happen. Some people can do that . . . some people can say ‘Too bad the money ain’t there. Let’s go to the beach.’ But I can’t. I gotta know, I gotta have.

That’s what’s brought me to where I am now—sitting on the couch downloading the client program for Age of Conan, waiting for a friend to come on xbox live so we can hook up some CoD Zombies. That’s what’s got me here without anything worth while to write about. That’s what’s got me feeling down on my luck, like I’m never going to be successful, like I’ll never get to where I want to go. That’s why I can’t trust ka, God, the King, or whatever deity you worship (we all worship something, whether you like to believe it or not). It all comes down to faith and whether you got it or not.

The good news of all this is that, even though I feel like I’m going no where, even though I feel like I’ve failed, even though my life seems meaningless, I know it’s not. Why? Because I’ve already realized what I’m supposed to be doing. I already see the end. I don’t feel like I’m moving, but in order to see it, you have to have come from somewhere. And that means you’re going somewhere, and I know where. The trick is patience, something I have to learn every day. And perhaps, one of these days, along with that patience will come also a profound trust that sometimes things work out for the better. On that day I will live in the best of all universes.