Growing up is weird. Seriously. You begin to become more aware of yourself and you’re just like, “Jeez, I’m a mess.”
I always knew about certain feelings of nervousness or anxieties that existed inside of me. When I don’t want to upset my parents with my choices. Or don’t know how a particular conversation is going to go with a friend. Or feel inadequate about a responsibility or job given to me. I think all people relate to these experiences. However, I think there lies a foundational restlessness in all people. Something that is not tied to a particular time or place or situation. Something that kind of shakes us, and pushes us to ask some deeper questions.
The past few months this restlessness popped up to the surface. I think I’m naturally a very restless person that is always looking for something deeper, more meaningful, or more fulfilling. I also think this is part of my development as a person and is exaggerated because of my place in life. Full of dreams and ambitions and desires. On the edge of stepping into the unknown and into a life of the materialization of my ideas. There is this feeling that I want something more. But I don’t know what “it” looks like.
I tried to articulate this experience of restlessness in a poem. I’d like to share:
I yearn to rid the tension,
the battle inside of me.
Throwing it into the darkness,
but will it ever disappear?
Refusing. Ignoring. Numbing.
Still- it vibrates, under the dirt.
I buried it. Alive. I buried it.
How futile are my bids?
Is it a part of me?
I tried to ignore it into non-existence.
Though, the beat of my heart lost its reason,
it will never leave me alone.
Awake, I look for the shovel.