So, to be honest, my life's become the epitome of an 'innie' these days.
Where I used to spend time watching (and reading, and researching and railing against) the Canadian system, where I used to spend hours or days crafting a post to share with you... well, lets just say that I've been finding it harder and harder to focus much on anything outside of my direct sphere of influence.
Which, incidentally, means I have less and less to talk about that means anything, let alone insights to glean and share -- I mean, believe me, I can talk about my various neuroses about becoming a father for days on end but other that that, I've turned into a bit of a one-trick pony as of late.
In fact, my ongoing fears of impeding fatherhood are pretty much the only thing that I can expound on right now.
(HINT: If that's not really your cup of tea today, you might want to come back tomorrow).
See, the thing is that, for a while now, I've felt a tangle of emotions about the whole thing. I mean, yes, absolutely, if you asked me about it, I told you I was happy. And I am. But it never seemed to encompass everything. There was this whole other set of feelings that I couldn't articulate.
It's like, I could see the moving parts -- the pulsing, writhing mass -- but ask me what it was and I couldn't tell you.
But now I can.
Over the last little while, after some friendly conversations and a bit of personal insight, I've come to realize that it's been a churning froth of Ambition and Angst -- mixed with loving spoonfuls of both Awe and Apathy -- that have worked to make me feel like quite a mess lately.
I've been trying to accomplish as much as I can before my life takes a sudden turn towards the 'not-able-to-do-anything' and it's made me acutely aware of time flying away in a very real (and, at times, terrifying) fashion.
It's quite an interesting sensation, to say the least -- I mean, to understand that all the pressure residing inside me is that which I've placed in there myself...
Yeah, it's made for quite a minefield of mindfucks.
The intelligent part of me (which, incidentally, tends to be the one whispering amongst the yellers these days) knows the easy answer, knows that I can only do what I can do and shouldn't push myself; that I'm being insane to push myself as much as I have been. I know this. I know -- am utterly aware -- that there is no way to sate any of the facets.
And yet they hunger, each pulling me in a different direction -- the siren call of Apathy, begging me to just 'not give a shit about anything' underlying all of it. That it's the easiest choice of them all makes it the sweetest song by far... but I know I'd never let myself live it down.
I think the hardest realization of the last few months has been that of my absolute need to make something, anything lasting -- now, while I can -- so that should I, somehow, never manage to write again or fulfill my dream of 'making it'... that I might have something to show for all of this, all my years of hard work and dedication.
It's been an entirely maddening feeling: fearing something that hasn't yet come to pass so absolutely... and yet, as each day ends, there are times where it's hard not to succumb to it.
Worse yet, to find myself feeling such selfish anxiety about something that is undoubtedly a positive and beautiful thing only seems to magnify these emotions (while adding a heaping helping of guilt into the mix).
Damn, I've just realized how much it sucks to try and pick apart my emotions in a calm and rational matter.
On the bright side, sorting them out is keeping me on an even keel, so that's a bonus.
I can (and do) tell myself each and every day that this is not the end, that I've got nothing to fear -- that, like that moment when I finished the final draft of my first script and felt that cold grip of 'what next'? -- there is more to come.
But my God if it doesn't fall on deaf ears some days.
It's been a rough few months, not really understanding what's been going on inside me, feeling compressed and stretched at the same time, wishing for -- more than anything else -- more time.
Honestly, even with all I've learned about myself as of late, even with my newfound ability to look at it objectively, I still feel like I'm only just starting to 'get it'.
The funny thing is that I always thought I was cool with the whole 'going to be a father' thing. But it's amazing what sneaks in through the cracks when you're not looking. When you let your guard down.
For now, I comfort myself in that old adage 'this too shall pass' -- knowing that life will go on and I will adapt; that my dreams will live on for as long as I choose to nurture them. There are good things coming. Different things, but good.
And, yes, there is peace in that.
As the sages say, "Change is Hard."
And as my father says, "You're never ready."
Who am I to argue?