I am flawed. I am human. I make mistakes, unfortunately more often than I wish to contemplate, I make the same mistake several times over before I learn from the making of it.
I have spent my life punishing myself for not being what I considered as close to perfect as I could be. I have also spent most of my life punishing myself because another also considered me imperfect.
I have always known I wasn't, and never could be, but it was the act of seeking to be the best I could be that was important to me, in my seeking, I was focused, I had a goal.
In recent months, I feel as if I am no longer seeking to be my best, to do my best.
I don't like this me.
In the past when I felt my world was falling down around my ears, I kept my sanity, my inner strength by always seeking to do/be my very best in as many aspects of my life as I could. Always realizing that not every aspect of daily life will always get my best effort, something/someone always loses out when my attention is focused elsewhere.
But right now, today, I feel as I am failing everything. My old world is no more. It crashed, shattered, disappeared. I am creating a new world, a new life. But, somehow my best efforts are not in it.
A part of me thinks this is so, because I need a blueprint, a plan, a map to begin with, to center my focus upon. Once I have that, then I will feel more certain. It has never mattered to me if I end up deviating from a plan, as I long as I have a plan to begin with.
I haven't done that. I have no plan. No map for this new life I have embarked upon.
I once wrote somewhere, somewhen about my love of road trips, and traveling. Of how I may carry a map along with me, in case of coming to a dead end, but a few wrong turns, a few side roads taken, excites me. The deviations from the plan make any trip more worth while.
But I have no road map along with me now. Instead of feeling excited about the journey as I did almost ten months ago, I now feel lost before I have truly begun.
I am driving aimlessly. I am stuck on a never ending four lane freeway, one that seems to have no exits. Even if I made a U turn the destination would be the same. Nowhere.
The road sides are littered with trash, the discards of my fellow travelers, there are a few wildflowers poking their petaled heads up above the debris, but mostly I only see the ugliness lining the road sides. I see old abandoned cars (lives with no plan?), piles and piles of fast food wrappings scattered amidst the dried grasses, broken bits of styrofoam tumbling hither and yon along the median, a flattened lost lone shoe (how does that happen?), and roadside crosses decorated with faded silk flowers, forgotten.
I have no wish for a specific destination, and yet...
I want to do more than drift along this endlessly long road completely unsure, unknowing.
Each day I awake with renewed hope, that it will all fall into place. I will know which direction I want to be heading in. Instead, I follow this road just because it is there.
That isn't good enough for me.
I need to know if I am heading into the sun, or following the path of the moon.
After I know that. Then, I can give it my best shot. Then, I can dream.
Huge sigh, hugest of sighs.
It is the land of divorce I travel in...there is no road map.