Everyone is moving on and I feel left behind. Whether physically moving cities or on to a new phase of life, my friends and acquaintances are buying houses, having kids, moving cross country and making career leaps. It makes me feel mired, stuck where I am with no news and nothing appearing on the horizon; like a ship becalmed. Though my mind is anything but calm. Inside it’s raging, a frenzied patient in a straight jacket bouncing around a rubber room. Knitting is no longer the distraction it once was, just another task I am failing at. Embroidery is slow and tedious and really am I that great of an artist? Do I even seek greatness? Why the hell am I doing any of it?
It’s counter-productive to think in those circles. Intrinsically I know that. And I want to be happy for my friends, genuinely happy. But I feel like a lost boy fallen out of my perambulator. Passed by and overlooked not knowing where to go or what I really want to do. If I was a teenager they would just tack on the silly moniker “late bloomer” and tell me that it takes time. I want to be amazing, I want to throw all my heart and all my passion at something until I achieve what I want. But, what the hell DO I WANT?