I've been thinking a lot lately about trying to find beauty in life. It's weird because a lot of the time I have these big revelations about whatever the hell I'm doing when I'm reading fanfiction. I became more self-aware after reading that fic centered around therapy, and now that I'm reading some fic I clicked on just because I saw one of my otps tagged I'm realizing that it's helping me see the world again.
I've already been trying more this year to find some sort of balance between what I have to do and what I want to do. As it turns out, these haves and wants are not so different. I don't have to find joy the same way that I have to do homework, but I have to do both all the same.
I do my physics homework at a sticky table in my favorite coffee shop/restaurant/book store because it makes me happier than doing it on the couch at home. I walk past the empty lot that has turned into a place where people put old Barbies and toy dinosaurs and random signs and I think about putting something there myself. Am I even allowed to? Is this all one person, or a community who has accepted this new anomaly?
I ride the bus home to my dad's and see a new museum-art-exhibit-thing where you're meant to touch all the artwork. I don't know if it's open yet, but I want to do.
I see my gecko's face, sleepy and adorable. I love him, even if he's a wiggly bastard who avoids those rocks that are meant to file down his claws like they're the plague.
And I am happy, most of the time. Sometimes I'm bogged down with anxiety, and tomorrow evening I'll feel like shit for a while because ballet is hard and my body doesn't move the way I want. I'll be heading home stressing about how I haven't gone to physical therapy since June. I'll message my therapist because I stopped acting like not being able to call her means I should ignore her. It makes me happy, talking to someone, even if it's to tell her I've got good friends and not to say my friends got me sick and last week was a little miserable because of it.
Last week I felt like shit and went to piano club anyway. I can't play a piano to save my life, but I told my friends before I walked into the club's meeting room that I knew I was sick and I knew it was only Wednesday but I would wait and rest during the weekend. This week my club, new and improved and (hopefully) great, meets for the first time. My dad and I still haven't gotten details worked out for the event I'm throwing, and I'll work it into tomorrow myself because I'm "so locked in". I still need to make the slideshow for the club meeting. The guy who ran the club with me last year scheduled his new club's meeting for the exact same time as mine. I try not to be bitter. I think about making more comments than necessary about his personal life when I get up on stage to introduce my event in a few months. Nothing big, obviously, just enough to make the people I'm talking to wonder why they're listening to me instead of the guy they'd all rather was speaking. Tough luck.
And I don't really know what to say now, because it's past when I should be asleep and I still have to put my clothes away and I sat down to pull a tarot card and ended up with a computer. I can feel my goddess watching me like I'm being naughty but she's smiling because she knows I need it.
I'll sign off here. I don't know if I said it enough, but the world is beautiful. Try to fall in love with where you are this week.
