Write Because I Can

Trepidation pulses through me, as sure as the pumped blood, like clockwork, once every second.

What is this deep-seated PANIC? This base and basic anxiety that doubts all action? I keep thinking of the womb and early, much too early, infancy - but these are not helpful. I am here now - what can I do about it now?

Things I feel that perpetuate this insecurity and 'not-good-enoughness:'

- Checking my phone immediately when I wake up.

- Listening to music when I don't have to (there is an underlying feeling that I put on music in order to soothe myself, not to actually explore the musical experience).

- Compulsively checking social media & 'working' when I have no allotted the time (here, it feels easier to do this things that something else maybe more mundane/mindless).

Things I feel that foster a sense that I am living as I can:

- Playing piano & singing.

- Reading physical books.

- Practicing my cursive writing with my fountain pen.

- Writing creatively, mostly on paper but also on screen.

- Speaking with friends that stimulate me intellectually (and maybe not even explicitly intellectually, but something about the conversation feels incredibly alive, complicated, energy-demanding - and this makes me feel so alive).

- Cleaning my room.

- Adding new words to my vocabulary list.

- Intentionally listening to music (e.g. going to the NSO).

- Drawing & colouring.

- Exercising & sport.

- Dreaming & day-dreaming.

And why shouldn't I create a life for myself that prioritizes these things that make me feel in accord with the rhythms of my body & mind? Why not? It'll be new for sure, but a new that I think I will like. There can never be no guarantees, though. The road to me feeling I'm LIVING my life, however, lies in taking these initial steps - and no one else will take them for me.

I will hold these activities in my mind, constantly. And I will try to figure out what other actions insist themselves upon my mind when I live a life optimally granting space for these experiences. If other actions insist themselves, there is good reason for it, there is an alive emotion underneath this, and I must do what I can to find a proper place for it. Shan't shun it away - can't sever myself from myself. So I must negotiate with the lower and higher strata of my mind and find a compromise - living a life, brimming with actions, that respects the basic drives of my body & brain, and also my more egoic identity. And that latter point is a tough one, because what if there is an ego identity around such distressing actions - actions which, though I perform them, I know are the reasons for my familiar angst. This is where I am now - unravelling portion of ego and carving roads for new creation. It's hard, it's so hard. I have to effortfully create & recreate myself. Constantly. Continually. Forever more. And this is the hardest task of all.