Sometimes I have a sneaking suspicion that I was born part shark. Not the dead black eyes or rows of disposable teeth, but instead, the need to continuously keep moving or I feel like I’ll die in some way. The origin of this trait is the origin of so many of my traits, it was directly inherited.
This can be a completely miserable existence, though. It can give you the feeling that nothing you ever do is sufficient, and that no real progress can ever be had, because the treadmill replaces itself and you have to keep moving. At very least, it is exhausting, and at the worst it is all a person can think about. I have found myself contemplating this state of being a good deal this year.
I should clarify that I feel quite grateful to have the freedom to be able to ponder such first world problems. My life has been one of modest means but I have never really known true struggle. Thoughts of not having food or a roof over my head never occurred because I have had many practically wise people before me to assure I knew enough to provide for those needs myself. But subsistence isn’t enough for me. I need expansion, I need evolution. Always growing, always forward.
That incessant need is a pulse, back of all that I try to do in this life. Yes it is a trial at times, but it is a drive I wouldn’t trade for the world or for simplicity. I enjoy a challenge.
Utilizing my creativity in every possible fashion is my latest self-imposed challenge. It isn’t enough to live a creative life quietly. I need to live it out loud, as this is my best self coming forward.
No rest for the wicked implies I have done some terrible things. Saint and sinner, ever forward.