My wife asked me this question last night.
I said no, but upon reflection I think the answer is a little more complicated than that. I think the real answer is I don’t know who myself is anymore.
I definitely don’t feel like who I used to be, but I’m not sure my sense of self has coalesced enough yet to say I feel like who I am now.
I think what’s happened is day to day cares and problems have taken over my quest to find the new me. I’m worrying a lot about the little stuff again. I suppose you could look at that and think I’m making progress, but going back really isn’t an option, so making progress towards the mistakes of the past really isn’t moving forward. The goal is not to be who I was.
I feel distracted and off balance. I feel as if I’ve lost track of something but I’m not entirely sure what. I feel as if I’ve had a really good idea, but I’ve forgotten what it was. If you’ve ever read So Long and Thanks for All the Fish by Douglas Adams you might see that I feel a lot like Fenchurch does when she first meets Arthur Dent.
Practitioners of meditation talk of the human minds infinite capacity for distraction. I experienced this today. I went for a walk to focus my thoughts and maybe figure out where my head is at, but my mind instead wandered to the trivial. I kept shaking my head in an attempt to fling off the unimportant and focus on where I am and where I should be. The results were not promising. The stupid kept winning the battle for attention.
The act of writing forces me to focus. I have to form a thought and explore it. I have to find the right words to express what I’m thinking or feeling. I’ve been struggling to write lately. When it’s working well the words seem to flow from someplace outside of my own brain. That’s when the filters are off and I’m in touch with something deep inside myself. Right now the filters are clogged. It’s a slog to find anything that’s not crap.
Oh well, for the moment the trivial is calling and must be attended to. I need to find the quiet place within.