The Edge of the Unspoken

I’ve been in a really funny headspace today. Not funny haha – just weird.

Now, I’m blathering on here on this site when I clearly should just be sleeping.pexels-photo-117843.jpeg

I’m on a journey of the self, I suppose. A couple weeks ago, I was at an appointment. There, I was asked about what I did in my day-to-day life and how I felt. Then, after I provided my not-so-self-assured answer, I was asked what I really wanted from my life. What do I want to do? Why? I was told to ponder and really dig inside myself.

The answers, it turns out, are not so easy to find. I think that I’m on the right path and then my monkey-mind gets the best of me. Why on earth would you think you could do that? You’re not capable. No one even cares. It’s a struggle – a struggle that I did not know was occurring inside me.

I try to find the happy in my life every day. Happy is not a problem most days. The problem is satisfaction. I’m not satisfied with my life. I want to do more, be more, give more, experience more. I want more, more, more from this life than I know how (or hill-863446_640where) to make the request.

I want to be taken seriously in the pursuits that bring me joy. I want for people to want to be around me. I want my life to have purpose and meaning. I want to be more than that girl that plays the piano and spends her days with old people. I want to be excited to go to work. I want to work in a profession that exudes positivity. I want to make a difference.

There’s a quote by Virginia Woolf that I’ve always loved. “What matters is precisely this; the unspoken at the edge of the spoken.” This has been bouncing around my head for a few days. I’m finding the issue is finding that edge of the spoken.

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