i’m reading Seneca.
ok, I’m reading excerpts of Seneca.
but I plan on reading more.
i have a confession: i’m a squanderer.
a squanderer of precious, precious time and attention.
on the whole, depending on the comparisons i choose to look at, i think i’ve done pretty well with my life.
truth is, i’ve felt restless for most of my adult life. and that restlessness has helped me not be comfortable with not living the life i know deep down i should be living.
but it hasn’t helped me live it.
it has only helped me remain restless.
restless & passive.
what a damning combination.
passivity sucks. you try to just let life happen—and it does—and you do appreciate it, but somewhere, deep down inside, you feel like you should be doing more.
in fact, you know you should be.
but you are afraid of going after it and being wrong, or being weak, or being lousy.
but none of that matters.
you have to try.
so i’m trying.
i’ve tried to change a few times. i’ve gotten better. but i’m going to get better still.
i’m going to make more of my time. i’m going to protect my time.
i’m going to use it consciously. mindfully. selfully.
i’m going to actually make a difference in my world, and carve our my life’s work.
i don’t know exactly what my purpose or my mission is.
but i think this blog is part of it.
the practice of writing it, that is.
there is a power in expression, you know.
writing all of this helps me clarify what is important to me.
and to the million or so readers i have, my hope is that you relate enough to find some clarity yourself.
there is an energy that courses through me as i type.
that energy is life.
in this moment, i know i am living.
that has value.
that means something.
and so, if the one life i save by doing my life’s work is mine, i suppose that isn’t so bad.
oh, and back to Seneca. this is what started this whole rant: http://www.brainpickings.org/2014/09/01/seneca-on-the-shortness-of-life/