(and she's going on a journey)
If you've been following my blog, you will have noticed that I like quotes.
I collect them like children collect sea-shells. Marvelling at their pithy wisdom. (Re)arranging them on my bookshelf – or blog, as the case may be. Tucked into secret corners. Forgotten.
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
- John Lennon -
(Vice versa.) Life gets in the way of plans too.
I jotted down my to-do list on Friday. Three pieces of writing. I worked on none of them.
Instead. I met potential-new-friends. Spent the weekend with my three favourite people in Canberra. Bought a new phone. Added to my reading list. Wrote a letter I'd been meaning to.
This month, I've had my more than usual share of drama... from a car that would not start to blocked drains, writer's block and doubts. Is it enough to have touched the lives of but a few? Should I expect 'meaning' from my day job or am I better off seeking this elsewhere?
Perhaps I'm expecting too much. Or as I was discussing with a friend, simply ambitious.
This emptiness, I struggle to describe. I've lived a comfortable life, untouched by death, illness, poverty or abuse. I come from a loving family. I'm well-educated, well-travelled and well-paid.
I 'should' be happy but I'm not. Not always. Which results in a vicious cycle of guilt.
(I hate the word 'should'.)
Thankfully, I have friends and family to vent my frustration to. And writing. A review of The Bell Jar and a short story on first love accepted within days last week. The thrill never fades.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this is what I'm meant to be... a writer.
To be content – rather than 'happy' – yes.