The distraction has shown itself beyond just my mind. I flit from one task to the next, completing some, getting others to the good enough for now stage. I've been trying to just be more active, to bring all the unseen mental activity into my tangible world. The goal is to become more purposeful and to really build the kind of life that I want and enjoy, but right now, it looks more like impulse and whim. There really are goals behind what I'm doing, but I'm working in short spells. From my inner critical observer point of view, I look undisciplined and lazy. I keep telling that bitch part of me to just shut up and be patient.
My week has been filled with little surprises; pleasant (and awkward) like a date with the father-in-law of a co-worker, unpleasant like an attack of heat stress, and weird like finding out I've had a hunk of windshield glass embedded in my elbow for over a decade and it working its way to the surface. Another pleasant surprise is that I've continued to meet the same group of women for a weekly lunch, and it looks like we might start a book club, something I've wanted to do for years. We're also talking about going to a wine tasting at a nearby vineyard, something else I've wanted to do for a long time. I admit my dreams were more Napa Valley than west Tennessee, but this is a good step in transforming a dream into a reality.
I've always been this hybrid of purposeful worker bee and otherworldly daydreamer. When the structure I had for years disappeared with my husband's death and daughter going to college, I let my interior life just take over. I over thought and over felt everything and let it paralyze me. I haven't replaced the old structure with anything new, but this wafting from activity to activity suits me now. I'm no longer huddled, emotionally devastated, in the not so comfy chair, and the day is coming when thoughts and dreams will merge with goals, purpose and structure. I'm recognizing a change while it's happening instead of afterwards. That feels good.