I'm not busy

I feel a sense of guilt about this: I'm not busy. I have time each day where I wonder what to do next. I am at a stage of waiting for some wheels to turn, for seasons to change, for people to make up their minds, and there is nothing I can actually do to speed up the process. Hence I am not busy. 

Given I am not earning any income at the moment this does cause me some angst. I want to speed this up. I feel impatient. I want to be busy.  

As I notice this I play a thought experiment with myself. If I knew that in three weeks time the things I have been waiting for would materialise, how would that change the way I feel in this moment? 

I think I would enjoy this luxury of not being busy, of having time to spend with those I love, to dabble in musings.

Therefore unless there is an action that makes sense to me right now, that would help bring these things into being, I will make the most and enjoy being unbusy. 

The good moments

There seems to be so much of my writing that is focused on pain and grief and sorrow and struggle. In many ways this is easier for me to write about than the opposite - the moments of joy and happiness and release. 

I may just have more of this kind of material to write about. Or perhaps there is something else, something about the way I want to be seen. 

So in this piece I want to write about today, and this week, and the good that has happened.

Today I kicked four goals playing social soccer in the park at lunch time, my best personal effort. One of my podcasts passed being listened to by 190 people. I received an email encouraging me about the podcast. I bought my son some new clothes. I have two hopeful and exciting job interviews next week. And I have an awesome week of catchups planned for next week. 

I feel a sense of joy. I feel connected and like I am letting go and flowing.