a place to sit and be quiet.

Nora Wynn
I’ve planned my life around ambition. Around desire. Around the future and
around achievement.
I’ve been blessed with circumstances, both situational and cognitive, that have
allowed me to focus almost exclusively on working towards success as I’ve
defined it for myself.
 Recently, I’ve been through a strange transition. My circumstances have changed. I
don’t have the same capacity that I’ve always had for focus, for drive, for achievement.
My energy is not endless. My ability to push through: to “do hard things,” has been
diminished. It’s been a painful realization.
“I feel handcuffed. I feel trapped. I feel useless.” These and other thoughts have
taken to tormenting me, without ever helping me “achieve” anything.
“Whatever an enemy might do to an enemy, or a foe to a foe,
the ill-directed mind can do to you even worse.”
These words rang true as I searched desperately for a way out of a mind that I felt
trapped in, rather than the mind that I’m used to: the mind that I’m a master of.
I tried something new. I leaned into the confusion and disorder, and made a home in it,
instead of continuing to push my mind to the limit of its capacity and beyond.
Because mental focus has been hard to come by, I began to use my hands to build a physical
mantra: a place to sit and be quiet.
Through this effort, I’ve felt moments of peace even as I’ve struggled through
these past weeks.
It has felt good. I have worked towards something for the sole purpose of making
space for myself in the present, rather than working towards something for an
illusory future self.
“Whatever a mother, father or other kinsman might do for you,
the well-directed mind can do for you even better.”
My mind is not healed, but it is getting stronger.