I’m still at home at the moment. I struggle with feeling lonely, and sometimes jealous. I’m so aimless and useless. My younger sisters are my best friends, right now, keeping me from feeling like that, because we hang out a lot, and they look up to me, much more than they should, and seem to “need” me. Studies usually feel without purpose. I don’t have any set work. I suddenly realized recently how much I have relied on my work as an author. It gave me enough purpose to get through the days and actually feel like I was accomplishing something. I’m not writing right now. I thought pursuing a job as a more long-term solution more important at the time. But how important is my peace of mind?
I shouldn’t complain. I do have friends, and time right now to get my life together and help with chores at home without a childcare position. But when I’m not working I have to think, and the only things that come to mind are the possibility of my family leaving the church I love, and the half-finished novel I stopped writing earlier, and the desire to get married. Gah. Hopeless.
Fleece is in the sky. I’m getting a new swimsuit. All things to be thankful for. I wish I’d cheer up! 😀
I found this gem yesterday, specifically the last stanza. It lifted my heavy heart at the time.
Man, who wert once a despot and a slave;
A dupe and a deceiver; a decay;
A traveller from the cradle to the grave
Through the dim night of this immortal day:
Speak: thy strong words may never pass away.
This is the day, which down the void abysm
At the Earth-born’s spell yawns for Heaven’s despotism,
And Conquest is dragged captive through the deep:
Love, from its awful throne of patient power
In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour
Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,
And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs
And folds over the world its healing wings.
Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance,
These are the seals of that most firm assurance
Which bars the pit over Destruction’s strength;
And if, with infirm hand, Eternity,
Mother of many acts and hours, should free
The serpent that would clasp her with his length;
These are the spells by which to reassume
An empire o’er the disentangled doom.
To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;
To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;
To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates;
Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;
This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be
Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;
This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory!
Are you ever lonely? 🙂