It’s been months and months. I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the past two years, I became a pack animal. I’ve picked up baggage, and I’ve been hauling it around everywhere. Wake up. Work at work. Work at home. Wake up. Work at work. Work at home.
I wouldn’t mind so much, except that just like another point in my life, I quit singing. I quit playing piano. I quit painting. I quit writing. I quit laughing. I quit having fun. In short, I quit living. I existed.
I’ve known it since this past summer. That’s when I started fighting back. But how does someone fight existence?
Science has shown that how you live, your personality, your perspective, affects the way your brain works. It shapes the ability of your brain. And the ability of your brain, the way it’s exercised shapes the way you live, your personality and your perspective.
I believe it. So I reengaged in activities I know make me happy. I changed my meditation. And I started exercising my brain.
But I’ve been doing that for months now and it hasn’t seemed to help. I still feel like a pack animal. I still feel exhausted from the baggage. Wake up. Work at work. Work at home.
I should say “felt.”
It happened sometime last week. Sometime while away from home. Away from laundry, shovelling snow, cooking dinner, packing lunches, shuttling to school sports practices and helping with homework. Away from driving in traffic to and from work, completing mundane daily tasks, racing from meeting to meeting.
Instead, I navigated crowded airports. I wrote. I learned. I talked to strangers and heard their stories. I made new friends. I focused on strategy of international relations. I went to bed early and worked out to new music in the morning. And when I returned, I refused to sit at home for one more hour and sift through the weight of the baggage.
Because, somewhere along the past week, I lost it–the baggage that is. I don’t know how or when, but it’s gone.
In its place, I’ve noticed light-heartedness, an ease in my skin I don’t think I’ve ever felt, comfort with conversation, sparkle in my eye, and feminine mien. I’ve even found myself humming and giggling.
And when I came into the office today, if I had even the slightest doubt whether it was real or not, it was erased. “What happened to our Monica?,” people smiled at me, “you seem more comfortable than I’ve ever seen…and a force to be reckoned with it would seem!”
Because as an interesting bonus, my work has never been more productive. My ability to negotiate and problem solve has never been more spot on. My presence has never been more present.
I think I can attribute it to finding my core competency completely and clearly. And with it, I finally feel the elusive focus within my grasp.
Muse 