I’ve had plenty of time to think and read lately. Maybe too much. I retired from the Army in November after 30 years and settled into a quiet life of semi-solitude outside Bloomington, Illinois. I’m torn about what comes next.
I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with a plastic spoon than return to an office where I sit in a white-walled box all day, staring at a glowing rectangle, answering emails, and updating spreadsheets.
I hope that phase of my life is over, even if I’ve come to appreciate the simple pleasure of being around people all day, even in an office setting. For someone like me—an introvert who tends to get lost in his thoughts—being around others is good for my soul, a reminder that I’m not alone and it’s not good to be alone all the time. Some days out here, I barely say a word to anyone. That can’t be healthy long-term.
In any case, I’m too young to call it quits and spend the rest of my life just going to the gym, reading books, taking long walks and longer naps, and writing bad poems. That’s been fine for the last few months to keep me busy, but it can’t be the rest of my life. I guess I’m not built for a permanent vacation. There has to be something more.
But what then? I don’t know yet.
The monotony of it all, the repetition of the days, the solitude turning into isolation, and the complete lack of meaning and purpose right now all weigh heavily on me. This stubbornly persistent malaise has made it difficult to write anything worth reading. My heart hasn’t been in it.
That bothers me. Writing here on Steelsnowflake for the past eight years has been one of the best experiences of my life and has brought me immense joy. It has always felt rewarding to write for an hour or two every day and feel like I was creating something unique instead of just passively consuming content. For some reason, even that simple joy is gone. I need to figure out how to get it back.
I appreciate those who have read my essays and poems and sent me kind words over the years. Those words have been like water to a cactus—a little bit goes a long way.
But an astute reader will pick up on uninspired writing and quickly move on, and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time with garbage. There's enough out there already. That’s why I’m going to take a step back for a little while to focus on getting myself back to a better place.
And then, sooner rather than later, I hope, I'll get back at it.
Paul