I stopped blogging. Not because I stopped crafting, but because I stopped dreaming. I got a big-time job making big-time bucks. I thought I had it all figured out–I’d have lots of money and no dreams. I could survive, right?
Wrong. The dreams kept creeping back in. They wouldn’t die. They turned into ghosts and followed me around. They reminded me, This isn’t who you are. This isn’t who you expected to be. Where are you going? They snuck in like static on the radio until they drowned out the pretty fantasy world of things and status, and they nearly drowned me.
But I’m back. My worldview has cleared, and I can see again what is important to me. It’s not filing my life with objects to make up for the unfulfillment I feel by denying my essential self in exchange for a big paycheck. It’s about making things with my hands, and trying my damnedest to do that and only that and still survive. So I’ve got a plan–it’s a loose plan right now, but the goal is to get out of this rat race and take some time to figure shit out. Spend time learning how to take care of myself–how to cook and clean and stay warm and maybe even have fun, the important stuff that we seemed to be increasingly outsourcing–and maybe make some money off of it to save up for our next adventure.
I’m back to tell you about my struggle in “pursuit of a different nature,” and that title has even more meaning to me than it ever did. I suppose I’ll go into it later, but I’m ready to leave this hamster wheel of materiality and egoism and willful divorce from the suffering that is life behind and start anew, away. This is my pursuit of that different nature.