I am in a rut. For weeks I have been pondering the idea that I am depressed, that I am getting old, that I am doing several things wrong, that I am plain lazy. I start things and I don’t finish them. I start reading and I fall asleep. I have no new ideas and nothing seems to move me. And if anything does, only just momentarily, there is a gremlin inside my head that whispers “Yeah, sure, get excited again. Just another thing you won’t see through… . And it takes too much of you anyway. “
I am not sure what it is and how to get out of it. I wonder if it is the routine of my days, being over forty (and it is true that I felt changes when in my 20s and 30s), or simply not having found that something to get me fired up again. And on top of it all I have no patience with myself. Each day that goes on without me having listened to or read something new seems like a wasted day that I berate myself for. Over the course of the past few years I have gotten addicted to the drug of excitement and flow and I am going into withdrawal. My fancy idea notebook sits untouched and the creative juices fountain seems to have run dry.
No big idea here, just some tough reality from my small portion of this world. I am not sure what it takes but I am asking the Universe to restore in me the flow without which there is truly no fun. I miss the state in which I hear nothing, need nothing and see nothing and am just focused on the idea flowing through me. And I realize we must be careful what we are asking for.
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