that’s why I’m writing another of these after so long – they’re a good receptacle to leave yesterday’s remains in. perhaps not the prettiest of send off’s, but it’s what works.
Lately, work has become a greater and greater focus for me. First there’s the looming threat of losing my job. Since my company has shown no restraint before, I find myself constantly treading the same steps and wondering when the other shoe will fall. I’ve even started rubbing my neck more, though I don’t think there’s any tangible connection.
But that’s been a worry looming in my mind, a worldy one that I never knew to expect. And I could move on and leave, but right now that feels almost as dangerous as being fired. I don’t know how stable the landscape is out there at the moment.
I recently picked up a laptop though, which has been good. Up until now, I’ve been doing 40 hour work weeks sitting in my room alone since I only had a desktop. I might have grasped a hint of how the caged panther feels – or at least my little cat – cooped up in one place.
In the end, though, it all comes back to one thing. I’ve spent more time worrying about tomorrow than listening to the crow caw today. I’m in the state where I can write this, and have it be true of too many days:
anger finds me
each day anew
That’s another thing. I haven’t been creative lately. And to an extent, that’s fine with me. I have a deep love and passion for games and have spent my free time lately improving at Go and learning about the Three Kingdoms period. There’s plenty of good and growth going on still, but I worry sometimes it’s unbalanced and lacking.
So that’s the other half of it all, worrying about this person called me. I’ve been completely independent now for nearly a year, and navigating the world alone has been difficult. There are traumas I have to overcome and negative habits to break, but I’ve grown and lived both more than I could have ever imagined. If you told me when I was a child where I would be now, I’m doubtful he’d believe you – though I was always a skeptic, so he’d probably assume you were lying or crazy.
Now though, I’m looking to reenter the creative space I once occupied and forgive myself for keeping away so long. It’s a hard thing for me some days to believe my creativity is worth anything. Another thing to unlearn from younger years.
I read a haiku some months back and haven’t found it again since, but it’s stuck with me still in a fragmentary state. It focused on the “men of this world” I only remember the meaning I was left with, namely that these worries we burden ourselves with are too great some days. They, ultimately, are what lead us to leave behind our wonder and joy.
And just as the author of that poem worried they were become one of the men of this world, so too have I these last few days. Which has led me here to sit and write this. I can’t speak of its quality, for it’s not even printed on paper to judge it by, but it has felt good.
Anyway, that’s where this haggard young-man-turned-old stands today. World weary and overwhelmed by each new encounter, but afraid to step back to the creative and spiritual for having departed.
I think I’ll wander my way back and enjoy the scenic route rather than rush in. Being content even when I’m not content with life seems a running contradiction, but one I’m willing to learn. Thank you for reading and I’ll leave you with this:
the sun’s set red
behind the flatirons.