I caught a clip from a podcast of a female entrepreneur. By age 29, she built a business and sold it for 100’s of millions. She had this spark, this drive in her. I look at the world around me, filled with individuals with this spark and drive to do something. Then there is me, no spark, no drive. Sometimes, I feel broken. It’s not laziness or an unwillingness to engage in life. It’s more like being in a deprivation tank. Over time, I’ve stripped more and more away, even though that itself was not my goal.

When I go for a walk in the morning, I sometimes wish I had a thread I could hold onto so I can safely walk and stare off into the wonder of the world around me. I’m surrounded by mountains, in the middle of the desert. The sound of jets taking off from the Air Force base near me fills my ears. Having lived on a Marine Base till I was 11, the sight and sound of human ingenuity set against the background of the mountains is one of my favorites. Not to mention this time of year, the clear blue sky is filled with hot air balloons, hawks, and birds passing through on their migration routes. I love watching the trees waving in the wind, the road runners and bunnies hopping in the empty field that is soon to turn into a freeway.

Sometimes, I can feel restless because I don’t have a specific bullseye to shoot my arrow. It’s been a settling into life, into connections by slowing down. I’ve been learning to paint. It’s hard to suck at something I want to be so good at. I write a ton throughout the day. I’ve been working to develop a regular study habit. I already love history but have been diving into the CIA and the development and dissemination of esoteric knowledge.

My husband has been amazing at letting me fall into the water and float there. I do still work for his business, even though that too is something I have had to step back from. I love working, but I couldn’t shoulder feeling like I am/was responsible for making the company super successful. It was stressing me out and clipping his wings. Love is wanting to take on someone else’s pain or struggle, but when you do that, you aren’t saving them. You only delay the pain and the difficult lesson. You have to ask yourself is it really about them or my discomfort with watching them go through xyz?

So, yes, at times, it makes me feel like a bit of a loser or unworthy, and I don’t have this wild drive to “achieve” in the usual sense. There’s a part of me that wishes I was different. Should I be pushing myself? Is this some kind of avoidance that I am blind to? Am I meant to be a mediocre person with a mediocre life? I used to feel the sting of desire to live an extraordinary life, but with time, I realized that loving the most minor, boring parts of life made for a great life. To give myself credit, letting things go is no small feat. It says something of my dedication to the practice of surrender, intention, and intuition.

As I went to save a post on this blog, it occurred to me, the feeling of hoping whoever reads this feels connected to it. All these things I write about are part of being human, not just me being weird.