Progress

Progress is a strange thing.
But I feel like I might finally be getting somewhere.

Since leaving my previous job I've been working hard to find balance these past few months. A balance between looking after me and making progress, between being sociable and self care. And I'm finally getting there pals.

Why do we always feel, as humans, that we have to be 'moving forward,' 'making progress' and similar cliches? It seems as though our lives are measured along a continuum, that we should constantly be moving along, to try and find some kind of end point or goal at the end which will allow us endless happiness.

But what is that goal?
Economic independence?
Marital harmony?
Children?

I dread to think really.

But somehow I feel as though I am settled now, but not static. I am always worried about being static, feeling as though I am not getting anywhere, that I am simply stuck. I constantly feel the need to be moving forward, to be working on myself, to be bettering myself. I put a lot of pressure on myself to this effect  perhaps too much pressure.

But my brain and body has started to recover, I feel as though I am rejuvenated. Spring has sprung. I am creative again. I am writing. The weather is lifting, I am reading and seeing friends

The fog is lifting pals.

And I hope you feel the same too. The sun is shining.

I wrote the basis of this post a long time ago, I don't actually remember the first date, it was sometime in 2015, and I've updated it every time that I feel like I'm almost back to being myself. But I've never posted it. Perhaps this is because I was still one step removed from where I wanted to be. But now I feel fully present. I like my job. I like where I am now. My happy jar is almost full.

So if there's anything to take away here pals, look after you, do what's best for you and don't put pressure on yourself to be perfect. There is no perfect. We're all just humans trying to do our best.
Be kind.

Enjoy the sunshine and the Easter weekend, look after you dear friends.