They line it up, we move it on

What could be said about a day in which the thoughts go up and down, like oil and water in a closed container? One can't know everything, and sometimes one just has to get through and remember how the barometer works. Pressure from the self can affect the ability to stay afloat, and you don't want to crash down fast, damaging it all forever.

At this moment there is a quality of being numb that is welcome. A great deal of things have happened this year, so many cards played and on multiple hands and it's been hard to remember what game is actually being played. 

Does it matter? 

Does any of it matter in these moments when you are finally numb enough to the anguish that you just let go and take stock of what you have and perhaps no longer respond to the stimuli that reminds you that your inventory was bare a long time ago.

Yet, there is still a cupboard and there are things that fit there. There will soon be more things there as life takes a new shape now that all of the dynamics have changed. That's what life is like. We humans are just these creatures who go through a now with an ability to know much more about what's happening than other species.

Right?

Do we know that for sure? Do we really even know who we are? Do I even know who I am? Does my conception of who I am even fit what others think of me? Does living a life of isolation warp you in ways that make your stories unrelatable, or do you stick to the formula as best you can in the hopes of constantly moving forward?

I deleted a bit from today's podcast about how this has been a summer of odd rhythm. I did it to save time, but also, the people who read the journalism I write don't need to know about all of my stuff. I let a lot through because at this point this is all I have. I want people to know I was alive and I want to keep telling the story of what I saw when I was along the way.

This has been the strangest year in a while. The pandemic-fueled isolation that allowed me to create my business got challenged by a whole of lot of obligations. There have been many challenges. 

I am grateful that I was able to find a way to remain calm when there are storms inside of myself. All of us have weather inside of ourselves that are worth reporting on. 

So.

Now what? 

Why do I still write in this space, one that began with another way for me to talk about the business things I wanted to do nearly 20 years ago. I'm the person who wrote all of that and then put a lot of it into action. 

But yet I'm not sure at all who I am. Why am I doing this? What's this all about? 

It's always good to have questions to answer by just keeping going, just keep strumming along, just feeling what you can feel as you move down a river you don't entirely get to control. 

I feel alive. Even in the moments I don't feel alive, I know I'm alive. Knowing is a kind of feeling. Knowing is also never necessarily certainty. We all just move along as our lives are lined up, seeking variations from whatever orbit we may have felt compelled to move upon if we didn't have our own free thought.

I feel alive. The oil and the water move around. I don't have to know what will happen. I just have to know that there is happening, all around me, and it's up to me to decide how I want to participate.