I've been looking at blank pages on notebooks and the blank white spaces before me... and I realize I've been hesitating to write.
I've been struggling with what I consider my truths; what I know; what I feel in my bones....and then I realize those truths aren't reflected on the outside so much.
It's human. It's ok to not be perfect and as much as I emphasize this and repeat it to myself over and over when I see myself in the mirror, when I find myself feeling slightly irritated trying to get through crowds of people in Los Angeles and cursing that they can't walk any quicker.
I haven't been wanting to be confined lately. I've been craving quiet time. Hikes on top of Runyon Canyon that I haven't had time for. Deepening my own practices. Getting myself back to performing. All while going against this feeling of being....stagnant. Really comfortable. Wanting so many different things at once yet only being able to choose one thing at a time.
It feels like I need a break, but do I take the break?
Like, I'm standing over the edge of the cliff here.
And I'm wondering if or when it'll be safe to leap.
I guess there's no telling for now.