The Uncertainty of Freedom

One Long Confession Posting

When I closed my computer side-business, I did so because I was tired of it and had finally realized that after nine years, I was basically doing nothing much beside working. So many projects contemplated but not begun, so many books unread, cleaning and tidying and organizing simply never even started. The most I ever managed was knitting and crocheting and embroidery in the evenings in front of the TV, and dinners with friends. All of them perfectly pleasant, but not enough to make life worthwhile in themselves.

Now I have free time, and am so unaccustomed to beginning anything ("I just don't have time...") that I cannot seem to move forward. I feel like I am waking to a different existence where the possibilities are endless, but that my mind and ambition have atrophied. I'm not depressed, but I feel that anxiety I have felt in seasons of depression long ago, of knowing that I should be doing something worthwhile, but either I'm not interested enough in it, or too lazy, to actually begin.

I should play more with my cats
I should re-organize my kitchen
I should read my books
I should scrub and dust and thoroughly clean my apartment
I should get hardwood floors installed
I should get rid of unnecessary possessions
I should volunteer and help people
I should exercise more frequently

And as usual, I am shoulding all over myself. But once I've come to that awareness, and rejected it... I cannot shake the uncertainty of what I could be doing with my life and gifts. I know what I long for, but have either dismissed it as something I have no power to achieve, or I am too lazy to make the effort.

Anais Nin once said that "life shinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." Well, I am fairly cowardly, and sometimes when I try and step back and gain perspective of my life, I can barely take a step back at all, it's such a small, pitiful space. For example... my fridge and pantry are full of nothing much. Crackers, baking ingredients, beverages, spices, yogurt, hummus, condiments, cereal. That's about it. I stopped buying practically anything that was perishable (I switched to skim milk because it will last AGES) because I was either too lazy or self-indulgent to cook. And so as a result, that area of my life has atrophied, and I never think about cooking anything unless it's something I'm baking for an event. I'm really ashamed of this. Part of it was because I only want to eat things I am in the mood for, and I don't like leftovers. So food went to waste, until I finally decided to stop trying. And when you're cooking for one, there's no-one else to feed. SO many wasted, rotting vegetables!

I have my hobbies, I have my choir and church and friendships and shared meals and my beloved Sunday naps. But I could be SO much more useful to my world. And my #1 dream is a little house in the country on a hidden back road with a garden and a beehive and a shed... none of which I can afford without moving somewhere alien or ridiculously far away. (See how quickly I claimed it was too hard to accomplish?!)

On top of this, I worry that I have become too insular, too unwilling to be heartbroken, and that I am turning away from people and situations to avoid heartbreak or boredom or weariness... all of which are pretty much a given in relationships. I'd like to go back into therapy, but Lordy, it is EXPENSIVE! And now that my extra income from the computer business is gone, it's even more difficult.

I would like to be a much better and more worthwhile person, is what I'm saying...