Living with intention

I had to print out a list of March birthdays for my coworker the other day and I looked at her with genuine confusion.

“How did that happen? I just did February’s last…?”

She politely explained how March follows February but I was still stuck on how fast time is flying and how easily thrown I am by such passage. Is that an age thing?

What’s bothering me most about this obnoxious habit the days have of blurring and fading is the fact that I’m passively letting it happen to me. I made a monumental life decision last year and I worry that was the last conscious action I took on my own behalf. Since then I landed in a job I detest because it was offered to me, I’ve taken steps that have been presented to me by professionals because I doubt my own ability to know what’s best as a parent, and I live in a place that’s nice enough but screams temporary from the carefully stowed unpacked boxes to the rent I can’t afford.

If all that weren’t enough, I’m still grappling with the monumental decision of WHAT DO I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE? I’m mature enough to know that moving to Arizona for the love of a man is not the answer to that question. That aspect is just supposed to enrich the direction in which that question would take me.


Playing the game with intention… and style.

The answer I did figure out, however, was that the last seven months (let’s be honest, it’s been much longer than that) has been virtually void of intention. I’ve bounced off of circumstances, necessity, and denial like some sort of whacked out pinball ball.

“Ooh, I’d like to resume a freelance career on the side but I just got nailed by that kid drama!”

“I really need to lose weight and get more rest but *ding ding* I have too much stress to take better care of myself just yet.”

It’s always something, out of my control and loud and flashy and annoying, that I seem powerless to overcome and just. Get. It. Done.

Bull shit.

I want to live my “new” life with intention, not at the whim of the levers and bumpers. I start a new job this week and I welcome my daughter home from spring break with fresh resolve to make our lives less drama-driven. Arizona is a beautiful place that feels more like home every day.

Rather than flinching at the bells and buzzers, I’m going to start enjoying the game and shooting for high score.

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