Tunnel Vision
Sometimes a goal can become all-consuming. It occupies every waking moment, intrudes on every thought, colors my lived experience. After some time, the brief moments of clarity feel a bit uncanny. I'm suddenly rudderless, bored even.
Yesterday's decision letter has me feeling out of sorts. I got back to it this morning, filing another supplemental, demanding another evaluation. But that's all there is to do. After months of singular focus, I'm back to my normal routine, which is surprisingly simple. A little bit of work, lift some weights, chill with the family.
I have to remind myself that this is what I've been wanting. Freedom. The rain is falling, keeping temperatures down. I have two days off work. Our accounts are flush. Everything I do is angled toward eventually making days like these the norm. So when I find myself feeling unsettled, I have to step back and force a change in perspective. It's easy to miss the forest for the trees.
What a shame to waste the present moment because I'm too focused on a possible future.
The silence today is glorious. I can't hear any cars, trains, noisy neighbors. Just the rain and my tinnitus (which will fade once I stop thinking about it. I shouldn't have mentioned it.)
I've just finished a cup of tea. I'll let it settle a bit and then hit the gym. Next to my keyboard I see "South of the Border, West of the Sun" by Haruki Murakami. I'm maybe 1/4 of the way into it. It's typical Murakami. I'm not sure if I'm in the right state of mind for his work, but I can't bring myself to DNF it.
I'm looking forward to Otsutome this weekend with Rinkaian. It's a monthly boost to my spirit.