What is this new life I live, where there’s no “end goal,” no clearly defined direction?  I don’t know what I’m working toward. It’s always been a certification, a degree, a program, a project, an initiative, an innovation.  And now… there’s just me. I’m working (part-time) and I like the work I’m doing, but it’s not the same.

There’s way less pressure, less stress, less worry, less demand, but there’s also less… accomplishment.

Ah, my drug of choice.  Success. I guess the addiction is stronger than I realized.

I sort of feel like I’m wandering aimlessly through the wilderness.  Or Target, only less fun than that.

I don’t have a plan. That brings incredible freedom, and apparently still a significant measure of uncertainty for me, too. 

I don’t need anything else to do, and I’m not having any trouble filling my time. I just can’t seem to get my head around all of this. I’m thankful beyond words that life has slowed down, and I don’t want to lose that.  I don’t want to trade it for anything right now. I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to see and be in this new version of reality.

I’m wandering in the wilderness, and I think I might be lost.

I’m sure there are plenty of people who’d be willing to help me find my way, but I kind of feel like I have to figure this one out on my own.  Or maybe that’s part of my problem. Maybe I feel like I have to do too much on my own. I don’t know. I can’t find the answer. I guess it’s lost for now, too.

Probably my book of Letters to God would be the place to turn back to.  It’s been quite a while since I took the time to write – and to listen. A long while, actually.  But I’m hesitant to go there, because I know He’ll have things to say.

And I’m not sure I want to hear them. 

I’m aware of how awful that sounds, but I’ve committed to honesty when I write here, so there you have it.

Maybe I can’t handle the truth.

Maybe the wilderness is the most comfortable place I can be right now, and that’s why I won’t find my way out.