I’ve deactivated my Facebook because it takes too much of my attention and in general adds a level of drama to my life that I don’t need. In a nutshell, I am addicted. It is an issue.
In general the internet takes too much of my time, especially during this pandemic. I need to find other ways to spend my time but I find that the more time I spend alone the more I want to hole up. Pema Chodron says the more you indulge your fears the scarier the world becomes. I feel like that law has been affecting my life a lot. I tend to isolate in normal circumstances. I just started living alone and everything has gotten worse that way.
When will the pandemic be over? Will we find more creative ways to enjoy each other’s company than zoom? I can’t think of anything right now, but I feel like there must be some way. I know everyone has said this, but it really does put things in perspective, and help me understand what we’re doing here most of the time. We weren’t put here to consume. We were put here to interact and heal and love and enjoy each other’s company. We’re here to take care of one another.
One of the reasons I am off of Facebook is that someone misconstrued something I wrote. It would not have been a big deal, but this person is in my family and it caused sort of an uproar in my personal life. Long story short, I unfriended everyone from that side of the family I thought was reading my posts and might take them the wrong way. Now I feel like I did the wrong thing, but I don’t know what to do.
In November I started working with homeless youth, and while that has opened my eyes and heart, I still don’t think I’ve found my niche. I don’t know what my niche is. I feel so uncomfortable most of the time, and I think that means I’m changing, which is good, but it would be nice to chill out once in a while. I’m not very good at chilling out, at all.
In short, I wish a lot of things would change, but I count on them not doing so for a long while. I have also been dealing with so much change that some sameness would be nice.
A few years ago I inherited a little bit of money. Instead of paying off my student loans, which would have been the pragmatic idea, I paid off my credit cards, bought clothes and went to Europe. Wherever I went, I felt safe. I was able to book hotel rooms and call taxis and do what I needed to at a moments notice, because I had money. I was one of the most affirming experiences I’ve ever had. I can’t say I will ever have that experience again, but I am grateful for it. In these times when I think money would solve so many things, I have to remember that I was also: lonely, homesick, stressed, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown (which I did have, while WWOOFing in Italy.) Nervous breakdowns seem to be a big part of my life.
I miss not worrying, though. I feel sick and tired of Santa Fe, and honestly, the United States. I feel fairly positive there is nowhere I could go, short of a sensory deprivation tank, that would make me feel better. And I have no idea what’s wrong.
I’m thinking about writing here everyday, no matter how boring or pointless my posts seem to me. Writing in a blog used to give me a reason for being and I would like to try that again.
Thanks for reading.
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