Trying to rediscover all my passions since they seem to have gotten lost along the way. Those little things that add up to so much of who I am and what I wanted to be.
Words are difficult when searching for a lost part of yourself. They can hurt. You. Family. Friends. But what would hurt more? Not saying, not doing, or not reacting at this point is really not an option.
So I'll search for a wish or a dream.
I used to dream about being painter. Not the famous kind. Just one of those artists you'd see off in a field with an easel. In my teenage years, I'd spend hours in the spare bedroom upstairs which constituted my studio. Mom would often scare me out of the painters' trance calling over the intercom for dinner.
I wish for the tranquility of a small town. I want to drive down country roads to see rolling hills of flowers and pastures spotted with trees. I miss the peace of that.
I still dream of owning a small bed and breakfast tucked down the street from a old bandstand and farmers market. Every room offering a different vision of comfort and solace.
The problem.
Somewhere I stopped myself from reaching out to that star on the horizon. The person I was, was crushed. Not by anyone my readers know. This is not an ex, it is not a person I would call friend, I called him boss, this person was weak in his own way. In one act, he redefined how I perceived myself because he had lost his center.
And then took mine.
It's been 8 yrs next month since I was forced to leave that job. It set a new path. I guess, I can thank him for that. For the time at Pike, when I met so many wonderful people before I started out on my own.
Part of the last month has been trying to grasp all the little shards of me as they scattered. Trying to understand the when and how the reflection in the mirror shattered and putting it all back together in a different way.
A better way.
1 comment:
It takes time to figure it out and get a new direction. It'll happen though. Hang in there!
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