It's the end of the day and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and check out. But I am pushing myself to put down at least one coherent thought before I go. I'm still pushing myself to write, and wondering if this will ever get easier.
I've been thinking the past two days about anticipation, and how much of a role it plays in my everyday. On most days, anticipation acts as one of the biggest bleeders of time. Every time I anticipate a task or activity, it inevitably sets off a churning in my stomach as I imagine all the ways it could go wrong. This then requires a massive investment of energy to overcome that anxiety and get to the task. It's no wonder I feel so tired so often, since every task empties my reserves so thoroughly.
I can't just get out of that bind by trying not to anticipate the future though. Because then nothing would ever get planned and done on time. There has to be a way to see this anticipation differently. I just haven't finished thinking through what that is yet.
I've been thinking the past two days about anticipation, and how much of a role it plays in my everyday. On most days, anticipation acts as one of the biggest bleeders of time. Every time I anticipate a task or activity, it inevitably sets off a churning in my stomach as I imagine all the ways it could go wrong. This then requires a massive investment of energy to overcome that anxiety and get to the task. It's no wonder I feel so tired so often, since every task empties my reserves so thoroughly.
I can't just get out of that bind by trying not to anticipate the future though. Because then nothing would ever get planned and done on time. There has to be a way to see this anticipation differently. I just haven't finished thinking through what that is yet.
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