I have no idea. I’m still waiting. Always waiting. Is there such a thing at all?
What do you think? Can you think of anything? Has any life-altering things happened to you?
I have no idea. I’m still waiting. Always waiting. Is there such a thing at all?
What do you think? Can you think of anything? Has any life-altering things happened to you?
That question is a line from a poem written by Mary Oliver.
And it’s a question that often circulate in my mind. So often I have an aching and yearning, I know not of what. Just for something more than what my life looks like now. But how are you supposed to mend that aching, urging, craving, without knowing the cure?
How is it that human beings always want their life to be extraordinary? To have meant something? Because I’m right to think that most human beings want that? Or is it just me that want that? I want my life to have meant something to other human beings. To our planet. To the future.
“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”
― Mary Oliver
Why, yes, yes I am.
Can’t believe that almost a month has gone by since my last post. And why is it harder to write something the longer the time it takes? It somehow feels like a failure and I can’t for the life of me understand why we put such ridiculous pressure on ourselves. For things that honestly have no importance whatsoever.
Do you do that too? It doesn’t have to be regarding your writing but anything really.
I guess I’m saying STOP to myself. It may be that I write ten posts in a day or nothing for 4 months but will be my choice.