I suppose summer isn’t the best time to deal with heavy, soul-changing questions.  But thanks to my little guy’s morning summer school sessions I find myself semi-awake in a still quiet house, my restless Gemini brain going in stir crazy circles.

Woke up to Adam Lambert’s “Runnin'” playing as an earworm in my head this morning.  Decided maybe my subconscious was trying to speak to me.  Read the lyrics.  Funny how the soundtrack in my head is usually smarter than the rest of my brain.  Listening to it on repeat trying to shake something loose from my head.  The restlessness has been quietly driving me crazy for weeks.

Tried to clear it out of my head by clearing out my house.  Sometimes the clutter in both feels like the polluted River Spirit from Spirited Away.  Feels like I’ll never get the crud off and find the bottom.  And of course, I have *no* time for this.  I’m supposed to be doing laundry and packing for our big summer trip.  Our all important summer family reunion trip – I want to go, want to see everybody, but my brain picks the dumbest times to go on a road trip.

I keep getting tripped up by the notion that I “should be” doing something more or different with my life.  Like there’s a piece missing from the puzzle of my life – only, I can’t for the very life of me figure out what it is.  It’s not like I want to (or even could) pick up the career I thought I wanted way back in college.  It’s not like I want to re-insert myself back into the insanity of my former “church life”.  Or go back to school without some notion of what I would do with that.

Some days I have so little in the way of concentration it’s all I can do to ponder it in the first place.  And then a song (or songs) come along that stir it all up in my subconscious again.  My soul knocking on the door of my heart reminding me that it needs tending.  But what does my soul need in the way of food lately?  I’ve tried reading every book I could get my hands on, which in my case is a considerable number.  Even spent an entire afternoon clearing off my bedroom bookcase so that my personal spiritual/metaphysical library was clean and accessible.   It helps, a little.  But I wish I could figure out why I am so distractible lately.   More so than usual, I find myself attempting to read from a dozen books at once.  Monkey mind barely describes it.  More like ADHD monkeys fueled by espresso.

Endlessly on repeat in my brain, “What do I want to do with my life?”  You’d think, at creeping-up-on-50 I might possibly have some inkling of the answer to that question.  But nope.  Not even close.  Curse my stupid, flighty, featherbrained Gemini nature.  I’m starting to seriously feel like Dory the fish.

I start reciting all the things I wanted to be when I was little, school age , in  college: astronaut, ballet dancer, rock star, teacher, biologist, photographer, artist, psychologist, researcher, astrophysicist, circus clown, traveling thespian, pastor.  There’s probably a couple more that I’m forgetting in that list, but you get the idea.  All of those were *once* possible Me’s.  But whether or not any of them fit then, none of them really fit now.  How do I figure out what fits me now?


Adam Lambert “Runnin'”


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