Midsummer night's dream

Sipping a glass of red wine, the piano and the violin of Canon in D playing in my ears, looking outside to the brightest summer night, it's a good time for some reflection. Not sure where to begin, though. I thought I'd have time to think, time to take a step back and stop for a minute, but I've been completely occupied by organizing activities, brushing 6-year-olds' teeth and patching up little injuries. Half of my summer camps are over and I am a little frightened by how fast it happened. However, in the midst of socially chaotic and exhausting two weeks, I've still perhaps learned something.

There are certain things I feel that I completely own, I am my most comfortable self with. Then there are things, places, where I feel like I cannot fully exist as I am, not without choosing to leave something out. And the things I felt that were mine aren't anymore, and they don't belong. They don't belong to who I am when I adjust to be happy. It's a collision of contradictions, a harsh revelation of what matters the most, even though I might be too hesitant to admit it.

I think I'm strong, I'm content, I'm determined and then I just freeze. It's like a bucket full of ice water over my head, followed by a few hard slaps in the face. And I question everything, I doubt everything I have ever thought or promised to myself, and I feel powerless. Vulnerable. 

But then I gather the pieces I dropped and try to keep going. And I tell myself that it's okay to be lost and that I'll find the purpose of all this confusion someday soon. But I fear that I am putting my hope to the wrong things, that I might ruin them by expecting them to fix something I can't quite comprehend.

Once again, I feel different looking at the world. I started to realize that you can't just say that you follow a philosophy and expect to internalize its principals merely by making the decision. I guess I tried to skip to the better part, but I can't. Maybe a part of me scraped together so many activities for the summer dreading the time alone, who knows. Nevertheless, I am positive in spite of all the melancholy, as I know there are great things waiting for me as I stumble through the crammed summer of responsibilities. For once, though, I am trying to find the path of unknown, unplanned. The path I haven't followed before.