Every day is it’s own kind of crisis. As of late, each day has been its own special flavour of ‘nightmare’. From the driver who nearly killed me twice on the highway to the catastrophic fail on the back end of a site I managed, each evening I am utterly drained. I am guilty, currently, of focusing exclusively on the problems, enough so that I’ve let all else fall to the wayside: my writing, my self-care, my family.
It’s difficult to see this ‘failure’ in how I’ve been dealing with these different things in my life. It’s harder to have your child agree that you’ve been short-tempered. Even though my dear Spawn openly admitted that I had snapped at him, he also gracefully accepted my apology.
I often question what I’m doing with my life. Playing around with entertainment sites rather than focusing on my projects. I dug out my partial manuscripts–some more partial than others–and discovered I have eleven projects in various stages of completion. Those sites, however, bring me pleasure and a sense of community, both key parts to self care.
Is it worth the time, energy, and emotion I put into it? That’s the question, isn’t it? Is there something in your life, dear reader, that seems to be a soul sucker rather than a spirit lifter? Is it worth your sanity to continue?
May your week be filled with peace and clarity. May doors be open and your path enticing.