That darned Jasmine Star. She's really messed with my very messy life. She's got me all thinking about things in my life that I was merrily being oblivious to . . . or ignoring, perhaps.
Why is it so hard to take your own advice? Or is it just me? I can have the best, most encouraging words for other people, but I never believe them for me. What's up with that?
After my post about focus, I've been pondering this. Why am I so afraid to just step out and take a risk? I feel that I live a spread-too-thin, wannabe life. I'm afraid to say anything that I want to do out loud. That makes it too real and someone might hold me accountable. Then if I never do it, I didn't really fail. Lame, isn't it? Kind of an ostrich viewpoint of life.
The silly thing is that I can't even tell you what I'm NOT doing right now that I think I WANT to do. But there are things that weave in and out of my life on a regular basis. I've been so good at just pushing them back into the sand with my head that sometimes I don't even notice or think about them.
Maybe I need to start giving myself advice. When I head down the path of all that negative self-talk, I should step off to the side and give me a good talking to. Tell myself the things that I would tell a friend. In the relative privacy of my room, of course. I might be in trouble if someone else watched that kind of nonsense. They'll be calling in for a pretty white jacket, if you know what I mean.
First things first, though. Before I try and figure out any kind of jumping-off-the-building, risk-taking moves, I still need to quiet down and pare down. When I was talking to John last night, I told him that I had done a very good job of saying "no" to outside activities over at the front door. But the other me was at the back door, inviting in all sorts of other fun things to do. So now I have to start giving some of them the boot. Narrow down the options and focus on doing something very well, instead of doing 271 things mediocre-ly.