- Post starter
- #121
OceanSpray
Platinum Member
Turns out my family and I just don’t know how to communicate. We visited again and got all the beautiful baby snuggles.
Why is hard for me to realize I am almost living the life I want? Yes, there’s a couple of things that need to be different to be truly ideal, but I’m working on them and they aren’t that bad.
I could write in several nearby cafes. But I don’t.
I could go hiking every week. But I don’t.
I could have regular dates with friends and nieces and nephews. But I don’t.
I could do a few certain projects for photography. But I don’t.
I could push my art out to all these different publications and places. But I don’t.
I could spend a weekend alone camping and hiking and taking photos and writing. But I don’t.
I could let my local libraries know I write. But I don’t.
I could attend a poetry reading. But I don’t.
I could turn one of my sheds into a studio. But I don’t.
I could attend art fairs, craft fairs, I could get OUT THERE. But I don’t.
I could be leaning into all the things I crave and have wanted for years. But I don’t.
I went to therapy for this and I’m still just stuck here, sitting, waiting for life to happen *to* me. When am I going to wake up and realize I could be doing so much that I’ve always wanted?
There’s literally nothing stopping me.
But I stop me anyway.
Why is hard for me to realize I am almost living the life I want? Yes, there’s a couple of things that need to be different to be truly ideal, but I’m working on them and they aren’t that bad.
I could write in several nearby cafes. But I don’t.
I could go hiking every week. But I don’t.
I could have regular dates with friends and nieces and nephews. But I don’t.
I could do a few certain projects for photography. But I don’t.
I could push my art out to all these different publications and places. But I don’t.
I could spend a weekend alone camping and hiking and taking photos and writing. But I don’t.
I could let my local libraries know I write. But I don’t.
I could attend a poetry reading. But I don’t.
I could turn one of my sheds into a studio. But I don’t.
I could attend art fairs, craft fairs, I could get OUT THERE. But I don’t.
I could be leaning into all the things I crave and have wanted for years. But I don’t.
I went to therapy for this and I’m still just stuck here, sitting, waiting for life to happen *to* me. When am I going to wake up and realize I could be doing so much that I’ve always wanted?
There’s literally nothing stopping me.
But I stop me anyway.