It is a quiet dusk at Chéz Béz and I am listening to Claire de Lune by Debussy. It is just what I need right now. I go about each day both blessed and stressed. Aware of how happy I should be, but always worrying about how I might lose what I have. It's possible that I am just simply hard-wired for anxiety, and no measure of good fortune will put me at complete ease.
If I am to use Unbreakable by M. Night Shyamalan as a reference, it makes sense that (just like Bruce Willis' character in the movie) I a man destined for a certain kind of work and I am doing something very far from that work. In essence, not only am I not realizing my potential but I don't even know which way to face to go toward it.
All will be fine; I know this. I am just ever so self-analytical. Nothing transpires in my life without me playing it over and over in my head, trying to find the place where I could have really performed at a greater level of achievement. No conversation takes place where I don't reflect on how I could have better played a part. I just want to be all things to all people, a task of dubious good sense.
I complain and I worry, and yet I have so much beauty in my life. My struggles are the dreams of millions. Go figure.
What phrase keeps me going? "This too shall pass." So far, it is always true.