Reflection

This question really hit home yesterday, as I felt like it could easily be directed at me:

"How can you ask for me to stay, when all you ever do is go?" (Something Corporate)

Yet another thought, upon which to reflect...

Holding My Own

Flashback to...6 January 2010

How can I not be persuaded when someone offers a convincing argument that I can’t solidly counter?  The best rebuttal I have sometimes is that it just seems to be the best option for myself.  Even then, how can I convince another of that when they can’t truly see the situation through my eyes, feel how I feel, think as I think?

So I am persuaded by another’s logic, which may to suggest to others that I am capable of considering and accepting their opinions and that I am just as logical as they are.  I think it just boils down to my worry of others will think of me, as well as my desire to put others’ interests before my own.  That’s a dangerous combination. 

Just because an argument is convincing or logical doesn’t make it right.  It’s too easy for people to twist the facts or interpret them in a way that makes their opinion seem right and true.  We can agree to disagree.  Debates will not always be resolved, or at least not in a single discussion.  I need to hold my ground and not allow my beliefs, feelings, and ideas to waiver, simply because another sees things differently and can clearly verbalize their thoughts.

Struggling to Find Motivation

I have the urge to write, but no inspiration from which to draw.  I feel like an utterly useless medium, unable to grasp and transcribe the ideas and thoughts floating about in my head, and transform them into a provoking literary piece.  I felt this urge come on much stronger earlier today, but I opted to wait until I returned “home”, and so, left that desire, that creativity trailing behind me along the drying pavement on my return journey.  Perhaps, arriving at my destination drained whatever inkling I had left to write.  That’s not at all fair though, as I constantly struggle to settle down and just write, feeling as if it must be good on the first draft. 

I find it overwhelming, trying to return to my story, attempting to determine the direction, and how it should evolve and develop.  I am uncertain how to incorporate other literary sources of my own creation, even though I have successfully done this with others’ works on many a research paper.  And I am frustrated with the seeming lack of progress, as there are no definable goals, except the final product, a finished narrative.  It appears much more daunting and I am uncertain how to approach it.  I don’t even know how it will end.

I can never seem to quiet my mind.  There’s always something floating about; the to-do list for the day, the task that I forgot to complete, the error that I made, my feelings in the moment planning out my future course, my fears.  They all demand attention pushing each other around, creating chaos in my head.  I even find myself unable to retain a list of work tasks in the short-term, specific protocols and expectations.  I don’t know why this happens or where they go.  I feel so incompetent, air-headed.  Poof, it’s gone.  Without a care, without any assurance of return.