I've titled this years blog "Remembering to Live." I've spent the last 15 days thinking about living; about what it means to be alive; about what makes life worth while. I have not come to any grand conclusions, hence my hardly having written anything in the last 15 days, but I've been experiencing this ever present admonition that living does NOT boil down to focusing on myself.
I want to read more. I want to be a much more responsible individual when it comes to finances, personal property, employment, time management, in regards to life and living things, ect; I desperately want to travel. I desire to put more time and energy into artistic en-devours. I want to be a better person, more sound of mind. But the more I think about me, the more thought and effort I put into "improvement" and accomplishment the farther away I stray from other people.
I started reading just a few of the first posts from last years blog. I went into the experiment of living a being existence fully aware of others. I wanted to abandon having mostly because of the destructiveness that consuming causes to those in it's wake. At least in the last few weeks, maybe the last few months I feel I've strayed far from that path. This "being" existence has become all about me; about me cleaning up my messes; about me finding enjoyment and fulfillment in life; about me becoming someone great; and none of that is bad, in fact it's all good but I've sort of lost sight of others.
While I try and break out of systematic living, robotic, mindless motions and learned behavioral patters I must remind myself that people are what matter. Life is most beautiful because of loved ones. I'm sure I'll never have time sufficient to do any relationship justice but I am also sure that I can do better with what I've got.
Side note: I'm ridiculously introverted but I cannot let that hinder me from living.
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