Here I go again...

So last week my walking buddy had surgery to repair the ligaments in both her knees. Our jaunts and church are therefore on hiatus until she heals. Six weeks.

I'm grateful that she will be healed by the time spring is well and truly entrenched. I am anxiously awaiting our return to the woods, to the connection and utter joy that I find there.

For now, I am left with this deep knowing that this is where I need to be right now, what I need to be doing. Not just the waiting in my outer life, but literally this, right here, right now. Writing this blog.

I don't feel like I have much to say and yet, somehow here I am. I feel drawn to this. Trying to dig in, to share something in the hopes that someone else will feel less alone.

And perhaps that I will feel less alone.

I've been avoiding this, truth be told. I don't know why really. I think it feels awkward to be this vulnerable. It's painful to reunite with the person I am when I write. To reunite with my truths.

I feel the same way about this that I used to feel about singing. It's such an intimate part of me that demands to be heard, and it is at the same time both exhausting and exhilarating.

It feels difficult to dive back in, even though I know it's necessary. It requires energy, and sometimes I feel like just living my life and going to do work that I'm not fulfilled by eats up every available bit of it.

It takes energy to go inside and then to express what needs expressing, even though it is necessary and natural and it also takes energy to hold it in.

I haven't had this energy in quite some time.

So the key question is - how do I make sure I have energy for my outer world and my inner world?

Because they are both equally important.

I worry that sharing this makes me just sound like a whiner. This is just life, right? I mean, there are a lot of people who are in the same position as I am. Trying to squeeze a little time for themselves into a life that is already overflowing to the brim with "shoulds" and "to-do's".

Maybe the difference is that they accept it, where I do not. I just can't seem to allow myself to accept that this is how life has to be.

I don't know which is worse, quite frankly.

I had a realization this past weekend which did nothing to ease my weariness. It may sound arrogant to some, and painfully obvious to others.

I have a good brain.

I have a good brain that needs challenge. I know I've used the analogy before of the working dog without work to do, but seriously, does that ever fit. My brain likes to dig into problems and find solutions. Without that, it will FIND problems to find solutions for.

"Cue the overthinking..."

So, great. I know I need to find more fulfilling, challenging work.

But here's the rub. With that, it seems to me, comes the requirement to invest 100% of myself in that work. That doesn't appeal to me either.

I need my church, and my critters and my kitchen as much as I need to use my good brain. So I've held myself back. I've kept myself safe, in my comfort zone, and in the place where I get to continue to cherish those things.

But it's at a cost.

We live in such an either/or world. A world that pays so much lip-service to the idea of work/life balance and self-care and yet demands our 100% investment in our work life lest we be seen as not dedicated enough, not a team player, not "hungry" enough.

What would it look like to have work that understood and even encouraged the other things in your life that keep you grounded and whole? How much better could you be at your job if you had those other things to balance you?

And by you, I really mean me, of course.