Brink of Madness or Edge of Greatness?

My schedule has been completely off for the last month. It has been crazy busy with my two  jobs and trying to squeeze in blogging and fun. To many, I may look like a super-organized, fun person. Sure, that may be part of the case, but I also know me. When something is bothering me, I am more active. When I want to avoid something, I am extremely productive.

There is nothing major wrong in my life. Frankly, I am quite happy most days. I have a wonderful family and amazing friends. I am blessed with two jobs. (No, neither one of them is my dream job per say, but they will do for now.) I am working out more and eating healthier, so I feel fit and energized. I fill my time with things that I am passionate about: reading, writing, horseback riding, photography, and being outside. I actually feel like my life is just beginning in many ways. I spent years of my life in an unhappy marriage and in the middle of that, a few years being deployed. I learned to embrace solitude. I learned to depend on myself. I learned how to cope with stress.

So now, here I am in the midst of the most beautiful time of my life and something is off. I can feel it, but I don’t know what it is…

Fast forward now. It was nearly two months ago when I wrote the above paragraphs in a draft post. Things have gotten even more hectic and busy. But I am still here and still busy. I am still stressed. but smiling. Now that some time has passed, I wonder, have things been off? Or, is it just that things are new? Different? Headed in a direction where they should be going? Change is hard.

I read somewhere once (and I can’t recall where-sorry, as I do like to attribute) that writers tinker with madness. Though I have written for the military for years, I am still hesitant to call myself a writer. I have published articles for my job, but I feel like I haven’t written anything worthy of the title writer. In some ways, that is why I started this blog. I had so many thoughts, phrases and stories in my head. I would lay there thinking of these, but they never went anywhere. I was afraid to write. Feared rejection. Scared to try. So I did nothing.

Now, I don’t care as much. I am not nearly as afraid. Perhaps its the wisdom of age. I mean, what can rejection do to me at this point in my life? How can it hurt me? Perhaps its the realization of age. I have wasted enough time in my life putting off who and what I am. I muted my personality and desires to make others happy. I can’t do that anymore, nor do I want to. Perhaps its the fact that I have been deployed a few times. I have seen poverty and hopelessness. I know how lucky I have it. And that knowledge urges me to seize my opportunities, not complain (as much) and live life with a passion.

No longer can I sit and wait and say, soon I will do it. My soon is now. Who knows how many tomorrows I have? And, if I don’t start taking steps to make my dreams into actual goals, they will always be just that – dreams. So one day at a time, I will try to take steps towards the me I am supposed to be, the life I am meant to live. I will be passionate. I will not be afraid to try. And when I fail at some things (which is inevitable), I will try again another way with a smile on my face. Now, whether I am on the brink of madness or the edge of greatness…I guess we will see in time:)

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For the Daily Post ~ A Mystery Wrapped in an Enigma.