night time.

sometimes I find myself in a very quiet place.

the apartment is still, the heater off now that winter has shed it's thick layers & the sunshine is making its appearance, warming the day.

The sounds of gentle rhythms & soft voices are hushed whispers in the background as I play something to fill the silence.

I get really introspective & I ponder a great deal.

I boil water.

steep strong tea.

I allow my thoughts to sway in their watery home, as the waves of the day come to a lull & I start to tally up the score in my mind.

How many things did I accomplish, how many things did I leave undone.

What did I succeed in & what could I have done better in.
When could I have focused on the good, instead of clinging to the bad like a security blanket. 

What challenges did I flee from, pushing my way in the other direction.

I find myself in these moments.

My mind is not still - I plead with it to quiet it's restlessness for just a few moments.

I allow myself to focus on my breath.

The rising & falling of my chest.

I return to this sensation.

The breath that has been given to me.

I banish the thoughts from my mind that stir up chaos.

They create a swell of unrest.

I shift in my seat, my tea is steaming in it's sterling blue mug.

I take a sip, it is dark & bitter.

I return to my breath.

Why must I fight with my own thoughts so often?

You are a disruption, I think to myself.

I am reminded of so much in these seemingly still moments.

My fingers find these keys, I begin to type these things.

I don't have a clear cut plan for what I want to say, the words they just come crashing out.

I want to find some structure to my life that involves getting my hands a little dirty.

That allows room for mistakes & trials that will teach me to grow.

I push those things aside so quickly, to make room for the things I like or am good at.

Why do I feel so stuck, I ask myself.

It's because you have forgotten to allow yourself room to make mistakes.

To learn, to breathe a new breath - one that is not calculated, or precise.

Just freely flowing, creating space where there once was none.

The discomfort is only temporary, I tell myself.

The real victory is overcoming the moments when I feel like I can't try.

When I am scared to look over the edge & see a mountain of my failures.

Is it really that scary?

Aren't we all just giant mistake makers, who prance around acting like we've got it together?

There is a slight chill to the room now. I stretch out my legs beneath the table. The warmth of the tea sends a slight shiver down my spine. I hold the mug in my hands and shift the dark amber liquid from side to side, like a boat making small movements on the sea.

You need to be renewed, I say.

You need to have faith.

You need to trust that there is a reason for all these things.

I roll my head around on it's neck, stretching the ligaments & tendons.

Reminding myself to drop my shoulders from cradling my ears as if they we're infants in need of hands to hold up their tiny heads.

I know all of these things, I say.

I know them all so much which is what makes these lulls of stillness almost unbearable.

I know that I need to make the choice to do the hard things.

I just don't want to.

I feel the anxiety in the ocean of my mind begin to toss up its current.

The driving force which causes me to stand up & walk around the room.

I know all of these things, I know them to my core.

So why is it so hard to make the choice to change?

Why it is so damn hard?

The screen is staring back at me. The question mark a silent taunt.

There is no answer being projected on the screen. There is no directions manual.

Life is a giant whirlwind of choices, mistakes, failures & triumphs. They can't all be triumphs just as they can't all be failures.

It doesn't have to be one or the other.

It's time to find the balance.

I am a ship destined to move about on these stormy waters.
I am not meant to sit silently moored to my dock.
No movement, no crashing waves.
Nothing that challenges me or makes me try harder to hold it together.
I was not meant for this, I say.
I am meant for greater things, if I would allow them to manifest in my life instead of pushing them all away.

The music has stopped.

It has stopped a long time ago.

I just realized this as I stopped typing, and the silence completely envelopes me.

Let it go, I say.

It doesn't have to be this way.