Miron’s Musings

I did something quite out of character the other day.  I called off of work for no reason other than a spontaneous urge to do something interesting. Typically, I'm not one to call off or miss a day unless I am so ill or concerned that I could not possibly work effectively. When asked about that trait, my punctuality, or my overt lack of work-life balance, I often respond with something along the lines of, "Showing up on time is the bare minimum." And oftentimes that response is met with a bewildered look, probably because a simple glance at my face shows my true feelings: abject misery, exhaustion, and deep despair. It's abundantly clear that I need to take a break, but the world must keep spinning, I must keep paying my bills, and I must continue to take care of my own needs and the needs of those I love.  But let's not belabor this point, for this is not to be a sounding board to describe my deep unhappiness with the state of the world or the uncontrollable aspe

Every so often I have this moment — this fleeting moment that seems to provide me with complete clarity. It happens at random times: while driving, after waking up, maybe while eating a meal. A moment in which I’m acutely aware of everything around me, free from the lofty expectations I set for myself, free from the baggage of my past, and free from the tainted lens in which I often view the world. This moment is something of an anomaly and I don’t quite understand it. But it feels liberating. It feels like pure unadulterated consciousness, in which life really does feel like a sacred thing to experience and hold dear. Perhaps I’m not present enough with myself. Perhaps I’m so pre-occupied with my ever-growing list of responsibilities that it’s hard for me to take a moment to rest. I exist from moment to moment, engaging in what’s necessary to prop up my ramshackle life, but it feels as though I don’t know how to live . And to be honest, I don’t think I ever have. I’m in a constant sta