Not a Clue

I don’t really know what I’m doing.

I think that I keep hoping for some clarity. That moment when everything feels complete. At least, that’s what I thought that I needed. What I thought should happen.

For the better part of the last year I’ve felt more than a little lost. I suppose that’s what happens when you basically burn down part of your life.

For a long time I tired to be there for those that mattered to me. I kept hoping that if I was just a little stronger I could hold on. I can keep going. I’m fine. It’s not that bad. People have worse lives than me. I just need to pray more. I will be okay.

But I wasn’t.

I was losing weight. I couldn’t sleep. I was trying to hold myself together for everyone else.

A part of me still feels like I failed. I think a part of me will always feel like I failed.

I’ve felt a little bit of everything this year: sad, angry, frustration, happy, joy, and peace.

One thing that has struck me the most is how comfortable I am with not having all the answers.

I don’t know what I want in some ways. I know what I won’t do. I know what I won’t give up. I know what I won’t put up with.

Maybe for now that’s all I need to know.

I don’t have to know it all.

I don’t have everything figured out.

I can exist in this strange little box of possibilities and limitations.

Maybe you can too.

I’m okay with that now.

At least today I’m okay with that.