The Escape Artist
May 11, 2020
I just miss being busy bodied instead of busy minded.
I think I thought this meant a bit of a life slow down, when instead it just transferred the external busy into internal busy.
I am a natural escape artist. Escaping is what I do. I know that. It’s why I love having a car. Why I love music or a juicy book or an hour long podcast. Frankly, it’s why I love workouts too. It’s why I go thrifting in the middle of a Wednesday when I get overwhelmed, so I can get lost in the aisles and focus on other things.
There is an uncomfortableness about having to sit with feelings. To have them live inside you more, and not just escaping them, not in the same way anymore at least.
There’s not a conclusion to this today. Which I know feels a little unsatisfying. It’s just what is. It’s the here and now. The things we can’t make sense of while we’re in it, but will one day show itself in its value.
I guess that’s the conclusion.
To sit and be uncomfortable.
And let it go to work.
