Why is it so hard to change your life, even if you know your life isn’t the life you should live?
Lately I get overwhelmed from time to time by the oceans of thoughts and questions that attack me. Nothing new though; I always had them and they will probably stay in my life as long as it will last.
In my outdoor trip in the Czech Republic, someone recommended me the book “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed. I’m reading it now and it brings back melancholic feelings. It brings back the feelings of wanting to go back outdoors. The uncertain. The unsure. The outside.
Scary, but one of the best things I ever did. Usually I care because I want to know I have a safe place, a place where I can withdraw from this crazy world. A place that is mine, where no one can chase me away. Where I can be me.
Its kind of strange, because the outdoors is not mine. It’s not safe. Everyone can chase you away. But yet, it feels different. Life changes, in the outdoors.
I’m thinking about my life. I finally have a job, but did it actually add something to my life?
Well, it did add money for sure, and some safety, some luxury, that I’ve been able to buy new clothes, eat the things I wish for, learn some new things, be more confident (though this still doesn’t mean I am confident). It’s a job that I can handle. I can save up, and as long as the job stays (that is insecure and uncertain), things are safe and well.
Yet I don’t think I’m happy.
I miss the mountains.
I miss the outdoors.
I miss my love.
I did not see a future here. I still do not see a future here.
Things need to change. I, need to change.