Today I was supposed to be hiking. But I woke up to rain pouring down. When I emailed Sheila she agreed – no hiking, although tomorrow we will go rain or shine.
So, as Simon said this morning,” You have a day with nothing on your list! What are you going to do?”
Truthfully, I was stumped. I had two things on my list: one required a phone call and the other, a FB message – both handled within about ten minutes. And then what? I thought about writing and found my heart wasn’t in it. And this worries me. Here’s this thing that I love to do – and that I do every day – but all the grand wonderful projects I have wanted to sink my teeth into since my retirement about 18 months ago – just no passion for them at all. I’ve had two nibbles for two manuscripts – and now nothing. And much as I tell myself that I don’t care, I suspect I do. I drown out the caring part. I shrug. I tell myself to move on and then I do move on but I wonder if I actually do. Do I fool myself so well that I actually fool myself? Am I that complicated? Is life that messy?
And so I got the dogs into the car once the rain broke and headed into New Denver. First – a walk on the Galena Trail while the sun was out, feeling guilty that the sun was shining and that I “should” be hiking rather than just walking. Then I dashed off to the farmer’s market only to find that by 11.15 a.m., Mick had already packed up and gone because he’d sold out. Lucky me though – he’d dropped off all the salad greens I wanted at Rutabaga’s.
After that – home, lunch, a nap and I just watched a movie on iTunes. It was sweet and mildly romantic and cute and I enjoyed it well enough. But now I feel as though I’ve pretty much “wasted” the day. Shouldn’t I be doing something constructive?
Worse – I feel fat. Two days of not hiking and exerting myself. Surely I’ll be completely out of shape by Sunday. I know how stupid this is but I also know how obsessive I can be – how absolutely broken – how many Achilles Heels (misspelled it “Hells” – maybe more accurate?) I have.
Which brings me to hiking. I’m madly looking forward to tomorrow. But I signed on with Chris Cowan for Sunday which looks even more awful than Lost Mountain – no trail, massive elevation gain, scrambling, strenuous, tons of snow. I questioned it. Why am I doing this? I feel compelled. This is what I do. This almost feels like my new work. This is what gives meaning to my life. Am I really this shallow? Can’t I find a better way to use my time? To give back? To contribute? To make a difference in the world?
Am I simply trying to stave off the inevitable – the aging, the loss of worth, the utter meaninglessness of life?
Yesterday I wanted to scream and throw things. I wanted to go back to a place I feel I belong. Today I don’t know if I belong anywhere. Sometimes I’m not even sure if I belong to myself.
Politics – I find I have to distance myself more and more. I watch what is going on in the world and I see massive amounts of insanity. But what to do? Where to go? Where is there peace in this world? Where is the peace I once knew?
I am untethered. And still – it amazes me how I can move through my days completely normally (or as normal as I’m ever going to be) while I search for something. I don’t know what.
Here I am – loved and lucky – surely one of the luckiest women in the world – and still beset by existential angst.