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Lost

// January 31st, 2008 // Personal

Not the cryptic TV series that I have yet to see (but will be watching just as soon as I can convince the GGF that Prison Break is not the be all and end all of TV) but rather the state of finding yourself in a place with no idea of how you got there or how you get out.

I am lost. Truly, utterly completely lost.

I’ve never been a big one for personal outpourings on this blog, or indeed regular outpourings of any kind not related to stupidity of traffic, but I figure a brief brain dump will do me good:

I don’t know where I am.

Which is to say I know exactly where I am but don’t recognise it. The three struts that make up the support for any person’s (or at least any normal person in the western world) life are present and correct. I have a good job that is challenging and mostly enjoyable – strut 1 – check.

I have a salary that is more than generous and allows me to save a little as well as living in a manner to which I could become accustomed – strut 2 – check.

I am happily living with said GGF and have been for 6 months without it becoming overly scary or fraught – strut 3 – check.

So why is it that I don’t feel comfortable in my life at the moment? My mood shifts between blissful contentment and burning apathy at the drop of a hat. My work is suffering, the GGF is suffering and I have no idea how I got here.

I have an idea that the way out of this place is along the path of less work – freeing up of personal resource and general reclamation of time but that requires that I start moving in that direction and I can barely bring myself to get out of bed most mornings let alone instigate massive life change over the short term. Not to mention that the only way to clear the decks is to complete various projects and I’m having difficulty at the moment even determining or retaining what I am meant to be doing day to day. To actually take more time out to complete the work outstanding is proving to be immensely difficult.

Lying in bed last night, the GGF and I were having a conversation about the materialistic nature of … well of me really. And this is something that is really getting to me. I have a number of lovely new things around that fulfil useful purposes in life (see follow up post for details) and yet seem to find little to no motivation to use them and derive little pleasure from them. Is it the case that I have focussed to tightly on possessions and toys? If so am I doing this to prevent myself from looking inward and inspecting the contents of my navel with the introspection it deserves? I think it’s certainly possible.

I suppose it’s also true that I’m starting to feel time ticking onward and am concerned that, even after all these years I have yet to find my own firm footing in this world. The transient nature of day to day life is still ever present and my place has yet to be carved out. This is unfair of course, my place is considerably more defined that it has been at any time over the past 10 years, my work, my friends, my GGF are all constant, static foundations that I can use to build myself on…

If only I could work out how to start.

(This post brought to you by Tickle Me Emo)