Epiphany not coming
Welcome back to yet another blog post.
We are all meant to do something. You heard about that before? It’s supposed to mean that we have a purpose in life and we are not out here out of randomness. There’s a reason and we are out here living it.
I saw this motivational video somewhere that said it’s unreasonable to feel dejected by not knowing what we were meant to do. Finding yourself or your purpose doesn’t come to us in our 20s or 30s or even in our 40s. It comes when it comes. Blessed are those who were able to find their calling earlier on and some of these people don’t stay in the same vocation they switch and move on to other callings. So what’s the moral of the story?
I’m in my early 40s. It’s month three past my active cancer treatment and I’m grateful and thankful that I’m chillaxing at the moment. Of course due to the global pandemic social life has been put to a standstill and all, and we can’t actually completely enjoy our lives out of the confines of our home but I’m not complaining. I’m making a full recovery and having my moments of zen as and when I can.
But I’m getting restless as well. You see after a bout of cancer, you would think that I should make some drastic change to my life and lifestyle. Like finally jump out of a plane in mid air or bungee jumping or so the things that I have never done before to actually live out my life. Even while I was in active treatment I didn’t feel the need to jump out of the plane. Jump out of the window to kill myself, yes- plenty. But out of a plane or elastic ropes tied to my feet and be yanked violently up and down? Sorry nope.
After being married, most of my dreams were made true by my hubby and so there was nothing else that I regretted not doing/trying. I have a list you know that I wrote way before my cancer of what I really want? Traveling on a private jet long distance, in a luxurious yatch and having luxurious holiday trips were my kind of dream. Oh and dinner with all seven members of BTS is one of them. So you see my bucket lists are kinda way too expensive to materialise unless Massimo finds me and “Baby girl” me, which I highly doubt will happen in this lifetime.
So the real question I ask myself everyday when I wake up in the afternoons are- what the fuck am I doing with my life waking up so late in the day three fucking days in a row?? No seriously. My ass is on the couch all day. I’m trying to discipline my kids (including my lovable nephew) by trying out the Aldrian psychology of not interfering in their life tasks just minutes after reading it and I’m wondering if I just abandoned the kids using psychology as an excuse. I am living and breathing. Someone is taking their last breath somewhere around the world as I breathe in my next. Some one is crying or going through depression, trauma or accident as I take every breath. But I am here. Why am I not getting the “AhHa” moment of my life yet? Why do I feel distracted every time I try to scratch the surface? My attempts to meditate in the mornings get distracted by Tiktok . I promise myself just five minutes of screen time on my mobile phone after sending the kids off to school and I when I look up, the boys are back already after a full day of school! Did I just waste my god given life on social media!!( I usually scream inwards. I don’t want my hubby and boys to think I have lost it)
So yes, this is the dilemma guys. A very small one compared to the issues others are having this very moment. Some would love to have my problem - I am aware. I was on the other side too you know.