Hiding Out From Life

Life is too much for me right now. I can't stand to hear about natural disaster devastation, but I can't turn away. The tragedy sinks right into my soul. And lots of smaller losses are piling up around me. Cancer is back with a vengeance in the mother of a wonderful young girl whom I love. A friend is dealing with the complicated death of her father. Friends are moving away. Other friends' lives are moving on in ways mine just isn't. (And riding 73 miles in 90 degree weather probably depleted some of my resiliency this week.)

Why is my life so easy compared to people in earthquake leveled China? How is that right? And why does my life still feel so hard? Life is delicate. Time is short. Make the most of it, right?! I believe that. But I just waste more time feeling guilty that I may not be making the most of mine. What will actually make it be the most? What do I even want? And if I know what I want, how do I get it? Do I even deserve it?

Right now I want more...
more time
more sleep
more freedom (aka more money)
more knowledge
more experience
more direction
more Project Runway
more Nancy Drew skirts to sew
more ice cream

And here's my big question of the moment: How much of what I want has to overlap with my significant other's? What can I compromise? If it is not possible to compromise, then how long do I hang around in the meantime? What do I really want?

I'm not sure. Or I'm not ready to stand up for it. Much less go after it.

So I slowly retreat. Turn inward. Hide out while it all churns in my head. Bury my head in Project Runway or whatever other distraction I can get my hands on.

Not sure when I'll be ready to come back up for air. Might be a while. My only glimmer of hope is that perhaps I'll come out the other side of all this rumination with some sort of brilliant epiphany...