so many things.

I've been helping others get organized in their lives, but I feel like such a hypocrite because I need to be doing that for myself. If they only saw my room, and the state of my mind, and how dis-organized my life is. I have clothes piled, scattered mail and documents I barely have time to get to, a list of to-do's that never get done, a pile of books I start and barely get through. I have a travel bag filled with clothes right by my door, as if I'm on my way out. Maybe it's there to remind me of leaving soon, and not getting too settled again. Perhaps my subconscious is ready to go on the road again... But yet the thought of leaving so spontaneously feels like the wound of my unsettled business... I'd love to just leave it all and travel like a vagabond to nowhere, but that's pretty much what I've been doing my whole life, except standing still. I'd love to call the shots, be on the road, forget responsibility, but what am I really trying to be with that? It's not just about making these emotional reactive decisions. It's about being clear on where I want to be and why, which is really confusing because that could be so many things. I guess that's why people get into ruts, because there are so many things to process, so many roads, so many road maps, so much information, it's almost easier to be disorganized in a sea of dis-illusion than it is to sort through it all. I have this idea that one day I'll be clear, it will all be easier, I'll wake up having it together and be able to just be like everyone else, I guess... It's a lot easier to pretend that you have it together than it is to actually have it together, but for now I'll pretend. The universe definitely brought me these dis-organizers to examine myself. The reflective mirror of my life. Now I just need to put it together.