Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.

As a thirty-something woman, I’ve come to appreciate several things I either took for granted or simply hated in my younger years. I don’t dislike my crooked nose nearly as much as I used to, for instance. I know my vices and can sometimes even avoid them. I know what I’m good at professionally, I have wonderful friends, my house and my wardrobe increasingly reflect who I am, and I’m not scared to try something new, even if it ends in certain defeat.


Through good times and bad in the last few years, I’ve always felt like at the very least I know who I am. Things may not go my way … but I’ll come out on the other end eventually. Forever Jax. Forever Zesty.


Some days, though, waiting for a new door to open can be tiresome. I’ve been tired for a little while now, in fact. Tired of waiting for the next topographic feature on the road of life to appear, be it a bump, a detour, or — dare I dream — an off-ramp to something good.


There have been some false starts that make the wait worse. Mistakes have been made. Hopes have been raised then lowered. Friends have been lost. New friends have arrived. Even as I type, I know I’m not just describing now, but also life in general, and knowing we’re all in this place at one time or another is comforting to an extent.


But as I tried to explain during my most recent false start, logic and emotion are two different things. Logos and pathos. Head and heart. Does one who knows herself understand, for instance, that a snub has more to do with the other person that it does with her? Sure, I get that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.


The trait of sensitivity isn’t one I’m looking to squash, either, despite suggestions to the contrary. If I turn into a hard-hearted, cynical, pessimistic shrew who assigns all blame to anyone who ever ripped my heart out and threw it on an open flame, I’m no longer thinking separately with my brain and my soul. Not to mention my tears are still my own to cry.


So in the interest of living and learning, I’m embracing a little bit of sadness today. It’s never a joy to watch something die on the vine, but I’ll keep believing that the death is making room for future growth, and try to stay focused on what I already know to be true: writer, thinker, foodie, musician, laugher, joker, imbiber, friend, kayaker, traveler, dreamer, and for the time-being, loner.


But not alone.

3 thoughts on “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.

  1. Morriss Partee says:

    Good for you to embrace your sensitivity. It’s amazing that when we are accused of being sensitive, we reflexively take it as a bad thing, when really, it should be the ultimate compliment. After all, being sensitive to one’s surroundings is integral and necessary to living and living well! >hugs< and cheers to your next doors opening….. they are there, and you will open them!


  2. Lauren says:

    An acquaintance (whom I regard as having true, authentic” wisdom”) once said to me one of the most difficult things for me to often understand and accept. However, I know in my head that it is true…not always in my heart…when it pops into my conscious thinking stream:

    “What other people think of me is none of my business.”

    It’s a tough one for we who care about what people think about us, but if you can accept it and move on from moment to moment, it does help.

    Time heals, life comes to us the way it chooses quite often, despite our best intentions to create it the way we want it to be.

    Put one foot in front of the other, a day at a time.
    All you have is today, and all you have to do is try to do your best each day.
    Some days your best is not that great, but if you tried, it was your best.

    This too, shall pass.


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