Journaling

How crazy it is to be in the midst of discomfort and know that it is necessary for the next step. That to reach a place of greater satisfaction and contentment, I need to overcome, understand, overcome, face what is weighing me down now. But when in fact I am not very clear about what that is yet. I do not see clearly. I do not feel anything tangible. I only feel discomfort. A dislocation. You know when a photo loads slowly, how each pixel fills the resolution and the sharpness seems to gradually give clarity to an increasingly lucid image, but what appears to me increasingly clear is what brings me so much discomfort, in this case, what is my dislocation, my discontent, my thorn in my side, which hurts, hurts not enough for anyone else to notice it, but enough for me to live in constant tension and never be able to relax my shoulders.

I have a crazy dream, of getting out of bed one day and thinking with joy that I will start another day of work doing something that brings me joy. I will work with something that impacts other people's lives in a way that brings smiles to my face, and to the faces of others.

My work today is monotonous, it doesn't bring me any kind of fulfillment, but that's where the need for discomfort comes from, right? After all, it's by following the signals of my body and soul that I can achieve the satisfaction I seek so much, to feed this hunger for life that pulses within me. Sometimes I feel like I'm empty, for something more. I recognize that many people fill it with religion, with psychedelic drugs, with science, with children... and many other things that give us the feeling that we are part of something more, that we are included in the whole of life, the cosmos, the universe, in the understanding of everything that exists, that we are not merely insignificant.