would it be accurate to say that, whenever I am not actively writing or at least thinking about writing, I am lost and empty, not quite myself?
yes.
which means I've got a lot of time to make up for - these last few months I have made so few genuine attempts at writing that I am probably at this point 1/4 of my former self (cue McCartney with the guitar, "suddenly...").
I find it very strange, and interesting, how "self-development" (a luxury, I'm aware) is a series of both going backward and forward at the same time. engulfed in an environment that I have little control over (work), I cling to anything that might remind me of a time in the past when I was really enjoying myself or felt "alive" or however you want to see it. but, now that I have my life back, I am bored with those old things, for the most part; I have some nostalgia for old music and memories, but I have no real compulsion to immerse myself in those things. not visiting old friends like I was sure I would when I stopped working has made me see that I am really not interested in rehashing old things, because I am craving whatever is new. another luxury: self-reinvention.
oh and let's not get started on what a time-drain a full-time job is. I've complained about that enough times. but I will say, just as a "closure" thing now that I don't have to spend eight hours a day doing something I care nothing about, that no fucking wonder this country is so zombified. working forty hours a week leaves no one any time to pursue interests; I even stopped being vegetarian, because it was "too much work" and I didn't have time. how the hell is a society supposed to pursue alternate ways of living when a working person just wants to collapse on a couch after a regular day? how is that person going to find time to look into the current news, change their lifestyle perhaps? it's such a long shot.
and, added to this point, is the relative difficulty, when working, of "unplugging" yourself. if, given a regular workday which completely exhausts you, you have a choice between coming home and zoning out in front of grey's anatomy, or sitting in a room with a book, which would you choose? right. and after making that choice, between the easy entertainment over the slower and less instantly gratifying thought process that might come from sitting in a quiet room with a book, over and over, through time your mental state is nothing but a circuit center which switches thoughtlessly from one part of the day to another, with very little reflection.
so for the last few days I have been "unplugging" myself and meditating on meditating, sort of. it has really taken me about five days to get to the point where I didn't need something constantly entertaining me, or a chore to do. I do like how, after I emerge from these sessions of thinking about something with some degree of intensity, I basically write what has already been discovered by thousands of people already. yes, working for some cause you care nothing about is incredibly counter-productive on both a personal and societal level. but at least I have experienced this firsthand, now. I have to find some positive things to make me feel better about having wasted all that time.
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