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I’m tired—fully and completely exhausted.
It’s hard to be on this planet, breathing the air, and being a productive member of society.
Every day we follow our early morning routine, or lack thereof, get in our cars, and go to work. But why? Yes, money, but why? What is it about this job that takes up so much of our lives or time that is so important? It’s what dominates our time; we barely have time for anything else, and who truly loves their job?
I’m exhausted from not being able to fully do what brings joy into my life. I think a lot about long ago when they grew and raised their food and made their clothes. They had little, but were they happy? Did they feel content?
Is it just our human condition to not be satisfied instead of looking at what could be, enjoying the now?
Often I find myself standing in my house looking at all the stuff and wanting to just throw it out of the door, but never being able to do it. It all feels too much, and it feels like the walls are caving in and I’m drowning in stuff. But I keep it.
I’m exhausted by work, by cleaning, by cooking, by all the stuff everywhere to the point that when I have time to do what brings me joy, I end up sleeping or staring at the TV. Because these things require no effort, and I’m exhausted from all the effort it takes to just live. I stopped watching the news because it was exhausting to hear it over and over again and to have deep beliefs about injustice; I lost any joy I had left.
Is this life? Is this really how we are meant to experience our time on Earth? I practice and teach yoga, I read all the books about living my best life, and I put the work in. And yes, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy, I have a great family, I do actually love my job, I go on adventures, and I garden. But is it supposed to be this exhausting to stay in a place of happiness?
Do we need this exhaustion to balance out the extraordinary so that we appreciate it when it happens? Would I stop being in awe of a sunset—the pink, the orange, the cotton candy clouds—if I were fully content? Would it bring such stillness to my life if my life were already calm?
Perhaps we need the exhaustion or maybe I need a reason to excuse the exhaustion that comes from living so it doesn’t overcome me completely.
All I know is that the rays of light that break through the cracks of this overwhelming life force me to pause, to breathe, to fully feel the moment.
I am reminded of all the beauty that is out there, the little acts of kindness, all the connections—and it gives me the fuel to keep going.
I’m exhausted, but my tank is not empty.