I’m on my porch, feeling restless. Looking for something to do, even though there is so much to do. I could paint, read, or take care of some homeschool paperwork I need to turn in to the state. Yet, I sit here, frozen. Hoping that something will inspire me.

I find that I struggle with feeling that I need to feel important. I am looking for mystery and wonder. Sometimes, when I am just sitting here, I’m uninspired. Maybe I haven’t given myself anything to look forward to. I do know that restlessness means to rest less. It’s a call for me to do more of that which I love. One thing I love is painting. But I find it hard to step into that. To paint. In one part, it feels like it will take me forever to get better. I enjoy playing with color, so I don’t need to create artwork. Understanding how the pigment in each color works and how they mix.

I find that I have difficulty settling into life. I can’t pin myself down to a time and task. It could be a planning issue, with looking at my calendar and planning what to do. I love history, so I may need to sit down and study and enjoy sharing that information. Since I homeschool my kids, I feel like I can never dive in deep. The moment I get into a flow, I’m pulled out to help one of my kids with something. Then I feel like, somehow this is a parenting issue. I’m unable to create boundaries with mom time and working time. Currently, my kids watch way too much electronics. Oh then the guilt sets in.

Then I laugh at the absurdity of it all. To be a human is so confusing—so many feelings and judgments. On the one hand, I want to accept that this is a human position, but I also want to be real. Is this the reality for everyone? Or a result of my childhood experience.

I do know that I have difficulty being “in life.” It’s not a motivation issue. I’m not motivated to write, but here I am writing. I try to take one small action, and then all those small actions add up. A part of me feels like there is so much going on that can’t be seen (I watched a podcast on non-human intelligence), contributing to this feeling I have today. There’s something prolific at my fingertips, but I can’t see it, and I’m left waiting. I can feel all these threads from the past, conspiracy theories especially, all starting to weave together, and I am struggling with waiting.