Wednesday, April 17, 2013
My daily visualization on Spark Coach reads thusly:
"Close your eyes and imagine all of your goals laid out in front of you on a giant billboard. Why do you want to reach those goals so badly and how will they change your life? What choices should you make today to get you one step closer to those goals?"
So I sat there and waited for my billboard to fill out in my head. It stayed blank. I was there staring at a large blank billboard. I could not think of a single solitary goal that I want so bad I can taste it. Seriously. I think this explains the vague sense of angst that I've been having.
So here's my problem: I'm comfortable. I admit it. The thought of striving for something exhausts me, just because for so many years I fought so hard for something I thought I wanted, only to have everything fall apart time and time again. I admit it. I'm afraid to try, because I'm afraid that I'll succeed, and it will be just one more big disappointment. It's all about conserving emotional energy with me. And, consequently, I'm bored to distraction. I have no real reason to get up in the morning. Not really. I mean, yeah, I could go in to work, but I'm the boss, and I can go in whenever I want. Or not. It's entirely up to me. It's not like what I do is important. I mean, you know, in the life-or-death sense.
So here I sit, staring at this dratted billboard which has plagued me all day. I hate being plagued by inanimate objects.
I have no goals. NO. GOALS.
None. Zippo. Bupkus.
Well, yeah, I have "goals". To balance my checkbook. To keep a clean kitchen. To eat healthier. Exercise regularly. Lose weight. Yada yada yada. The usual suspects. But none of this really interests me. Nope. Not even the losing weight bit. Not really. It's just a frustrating and meaningless battle. Meaningless, I tell you!!! So who cares if I fit into a 24 or a 4???? Was anyone saved? When I die, is everyone gonna stand over my casket saying "ooh, she went from a size 24 to a size 4! She will be sorely missed!" Nope. Nobody's gonna care. Not even me. Because I'll be dead.
What we have here, Sparkfriends, is an existential crisis of sorts. I guess you might even call it a midlife crisis, although I'm not sure I'm technically old enough for one of those yet. So here I sit, still staring at a blank billboard, still with no goals that set me on fire. Or light a fire under me.
Hmm. What to do...