I seem to be in some sort of crisis.
A crisis of the soul, my life, my heart, my direction.
While I try to write positively for others, I find myself critical of myself, crying and without direction. While I've led Church services and brought a positive sensitivity to others hearts, I find it hypocrytical to say I've led them anywhere. For who am I?
I've done the things I've wanted to do in my life. I've married whom I've loved and I've had my babies. I have my house. I have friends. I have my music. I've traveled some. I've made things with my ideas and my hands.
So I write.
I try to write and give thanks, or make people think, or show them other ideas, venues, avenues, fantasies.....and yet sometimes it all just seems so hollow, so self involved, so internal, and yet I feel the need to share it with others... this journey.
What is the good in that, but it only makes me look needy and confused and wrapped up in self.
Maybe I'm trying to see if they are going thru the same thing?
My life has been a series of projects and events of my own whipping.
Like a dead horse.
And now my dreams sheet is empty except for more to-do list chores.
I have been trying to take care of my health, as you know, to live a good long life.
But then I wonder, what's the good in that?
What am I for?
What is my purpose now?
My children are grown, there are people in my life who I wish were closer in heart, body & spirit...
but you can't go back. Life goes on. Things should go forward. Children grow older not younger.
People do not need me like they did before. Love moves on.
I've done my duty. Home, Church, Community, Politically, Socially.
I've done my share of Spiritual work too....looking within, praying, meditating, devotion.
I now feel hollow and empty and joyless this day.
Fer fuck's sake....
Maybe I just need hormones.