This post is almost for my mother.
It’s for you too, of course.
Whether you’ve been poking around the comment sections of Sydney‘s, Carlos‘, Jenny‘s, or a whole slew of other blogs or not (my mother, probably not) you probably get the feeling this time of year that bloggers start to get very introspective as the holidays roll into town. They start thinking about their blogs, their friends, their love lives, and the like. We all do it.
Bloggers write about it.
So let’s, shall we?
I’m in an interesting period of my life. No, it’s not that I’m turning thirty on Friday, although that is interesting in the way that there were times at which I wasn’t sure I’d make it here.
Jokes aside, things are just not as they were, and as lives tend to do, I’m in one of the less boring, more unpredictable, definitely more strenuous periods of my professional life. Since I never have, and never will, be someone who leaves his professional endeavors in a tight little nine-to-five box, the state of my professional life directly affects everything else.
It most directly affects my love life. My last relationship was partly victim to my at-the-time new job, which took too much of me at a time when she could have used my best.
Lately, I find myself in a state I can only describe as unavailable. I know, I know…you meet the right person and the world stops…I get that and I do subscribe to it on a certain level, but I also know that one of the things I’ve learned from the love in my past is that I don’t do a good job for someone else when I’m in the mode I’m in.
Or put more clearly, I don’t want to do the job unless it’s done the right way.
Done in a way that surpasses everything she’s always imagined he might be able to give her.
What’s that really mean?
What it seems to mean is that my heart lies in wait for a while, and despite the amazing people I know and have met over the last few months I just don’t have that priority fighting for top billing, and to act like I did would be totally unfair.
My mother is the most flat-out wonderful, caring, supportive little thing in my life. She’s a hurricane of love and she says the damnedest things and she see nothing on this planet or otherwise more important than family.
I’m my mother’s son, and when she asks me (every time I set foot within a mile of her) if I’m “seeing anyone yet”, I get it. I love to love. I want that and I know it’s around a corner somewhere.
But I also can’t sit still until I’ve left a mark on something, and I know that internal sense-of-self will probably never let up, but at the ripe old age of thirty I’ve come to recognize my hurry-up-and-wait lifestyle…
…you can’t slow dance to someone else’s heartbeat while you’re sprinting and juggling with both hands.
How about you?