Latent Sadness

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I am writing now to feel a little better. I was jogging with a relative and talking about all things life. He's 11. He misses his friends and his nice teachers at school, and Covid has hit his lifestyle pretty hard. I felt sad. I realized I'm not so young, but I don't give my friends primary attention like he does. I haven't found that Asian-American, hybrid personality that focuses on both self-development and community.

I'm concerned for me and my latent sadness. It's always there lurking beneath the surface with my anxiety. Some moments I'm free of this and jumping for joy, but most of the time I'm in touch with this tension in my neck and shoulders. This fear that I'm not living right, doing right. That I could be doing better if I was making more money or in a relationship or in better shape. 

There's lots of models for better places to be than the place I am now, or at least that's how things appear. Usually I find when I dig a little deeper that I'm not as alone as I think. Others suffer the same shit, and I just don't see it.

Life is disappointing because there isn't a plateau we can rest at. It's this constant nagging pain inside. As I write, I want to provide some solution to myself and to my readers that will make all of us happy and then make me famous 😛. As if I can solve the problem of life that philosophers have been debating for eons. I blog and now want to podcast and go on other creative ventures. I don't think my intentions are too pure. I want the attention, money, and a life of fun (are these things all that bad, though?).

I think being with my relatives and disconnecting makes me aware of how restless I am. I need to sit with that feeling more often and feel every inch of that discomfort. 

I saw some fresh produce at Kroger dripping with dew, and my mouth watered. Perhaps my body realizes that this is the medicine it needs, while I keep feeding myself hamburgers and chips. 

Isn't that the best metaphor? I need to sit with my problems and accept them, but instead I scroll on Facebook or watch TV—my daily dose of junk food. The amount of silence my mind needs is significant if I ever want to know myself and think for myself, but I turn to junk. 

God I love my young relatives (using the word "relative" to avoid referencing anyone specific now, lol). They are so cute and so free. They don't ponder every choice they make or avoid much out of fear. They just let it all out. And I guess that's what I'm trying to do with my blogs. Let out my inner angst in the hope that I find healing.

"There never was much hope, just a fool's hope."
-Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King

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