Been thinking about thoughts and feelings this weekend. How they feed one another and how much say we have in the direction they take us. Yesterday I woke with the blahs: what on earth am I doing with my days which seem to be running together like watercolours with a wet brush dragged through them? Where’s my enthusiasm for the direction I’ve chosen? Have I taken a wrong turn, and lost the path of Greater Altruism? What about the writing (where is it)? Do I actually like the people I live with? Are we dragging one another down? I mean, why get out of bed today?Â â€¦
You get my drift? Downwards. Muddy thoughts, murky feelings, running together.
I picked up the little book I pick up (when I remember) at times like this.
Stop it. That’s the basic message. Act. Do something, anything. Remind yourself of your capabilities, and that incapacity starts in the mind. And so does vast capacity. I guess that for someone else the best message would be opposite: go and wallow in a hot bath. Book a ticket to Hyderabad. Meditate and merge with the cosmos. Anyway. Acting works for me. Act by act.
Chopped wood. Dusted the innermost reaches of the bedroom. Said yes when a friend asked me out. Went out.
What I’ve taken for my current vocation took on its former glow of possibility. My housemates improved out of sight. Simple soul that I am, I got happy.