Since there's something about the permanency of the written word, in combination with the vulnerable exposure that blogging entails, I make an effort to weigh my words carefully in every entry. My intention with this blog has been to find perspective in my own journey through simple, everyday happenings and hopefully allow my subconscious mind to guide me towards insight. My own form of do-it-yourself therapy (for better or for worse ;-)....)
I strive to maintain a positive tone. A humble, forgiving, been-there-done-that tone.
I don't want to taint reality, though; I want to be honest. Yet, since I firmly believe that whining gets me nowhere, and I feel the world has more than its share of self-acclaimed martyrs, I avoid my blog on days when my frustration levels peak. It's also a way of maintaining some balance between being personal without being too private. So just because I don't write openly about my personal crap doesn't mean I am leading my life in a rosy shimmer of denial.
Lately I've had a lot of days when I feel as though my nerves are sitting outside of my skin, without protection and without a filter. The slightest touch feels instead like I'm being struck by a million volts of electricity that lead straight to my heart. I'm in somewhat of an emotional turmoil - nothing demanding professional attention (at least I don't think I need professional attention...), but enough to keep me off balance for the moment.
Maybe it's because I've taken some time off this summer that bottled up feelings see their chance to get noticed. Maybe it's time for me to regroup and consider a new path. Maybe it's my old, inner demons who are trying to fool me into thinking that what I'm doing isn't right for me.
I honestly don't know.
Photo by Philipp Klinger, found on Google
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