Do you ever feel like you are supposed to be doing something, but you aren’t sure what it is? There is a yearning to do this one thing, but when you go to name it you can’t and it is this vast empty hole that no matter what you do, the yearning doesn’t stop. I read, but it doesn’t fill. I knit, but it doesn’t fill. I talk with friends, but it doesn’t fill. I get more herbs to plant, but it doesn’t fill. What is it? What is this need? I feel a little better after I’ve gone to class, maybe it’s because I’m only taking class one night a week for like an hour or so. Maybe because my conversations lately have been more like reports given. “I did ___ today. Noah and Nora did ___ today. I need you to do ____ today”. I enjoy good conversations. I enjoy deep conversations. I have plans to go to this knitting get-together on Saturday morning. I doubt that the conversation will be out of this world, but maybe I need to get out of my head. Usually, I will have these sort of plans in place and then it always ends up feeling like such a waste of time. There is this sense of discontentment that will not go away. I guess I mostly feel stressed. I asked Jason to take over the bedtime routine last night and it felt nice to not have to do baths and books, though I usually enjoy both.
I have been reading Anne Lamott’s, Traveling Mercies. It is such a neat book. Autobiographical and surprising. It is about her and God and their journey together. I’m sure I will sort it out. In the meantime I bought a new bookmark and “worry ring” from Brooke Pottery. Such a fun little store.