It’s almost one am on a worknight and I can’t sleep. Maybe it’s the peach tea I had for dinner. Maybe it’s the conversation I had with a friend at dinner. Maybe it’s the ice cream I had after dinner. Or maybe it’s the dinner.
Or perhaps I’m just scared that by closing my eyes and falling asleep, I’d wake up to a new day that I, somehow, know still won’t make me better. I just want to stay up and think all my thoughts over and figure this out. Figure life out. But that’s not gonna happen. Wouldn’t happen for anybody. Can’t know all the answers. Not right now. Not at once.
Of course I am grateful. I should be more grateful. But hey, I’m allowed this time to overthink and overthink again.
Sigh. That question of what is my purpose. Of what is my passion. Those questions are circling in my mind over and over and I just want answers so I can get to it. Then I realise that the small things matter. Walk more. Drink more water. Travel more. Smile more. Write more. Sing more. Love more. Forgive more. Small, simple things…slowly but surely, life becomes more meaningful. How do I know? I don’t. But it doesn’t hurt to try.
Well, goodnight. I think I can sleep now.