Insights: After a stretch of activity, things are slowing down again. Enough to return to writing; I am eager to do so. The weekend was wonderful, and the value of the experiences is tenfold the investment of time and energy. But my comfort of being late is found in the quieter moments of reflection, and in creating the narrative, I have a compulsion to complete it as soon as possible. This year, ideally. I love my family dearly and cherish all the time I have and spend with them, yet my choices may not always align with their interests in what to do, who to see, and where to go. I still find myself agreeing to things out of a sense of obligation or because of limited opportunities. Yet I am starting to push back. Disneyland, for example. Jen is coordinating a trip to Disneyland with her son, Tommy, Lauren, and her Brother. I don't have any interest in going at all. None. That's somewhat out of character for me, as I have substantial memories of a childhood spent there routinely while growing up in the local area. And numerous trips over the past 30 years, too. But I am so done. Barring the good fortune of being given an all-expenses-paid trip with their top-tier concierge service escort and line-jumping benefits, I'll pass. Like most large concert outings, it takes more out of me than I get in return. We are going to see Nick Cave tomorrow with Matt B., an exception I made and now regret, as the idea of driving into and through SF is already offsetting the potential awe of seeing a performer I admire, Tommy routinely proposes outings and trips that I would not want to have missed while also recognizing my diminishing revenue stream and the stack of goals I have going unaddressed. All of these factors correlate to not taking care of oneself first. I need to be selfish when prioritizing the "big rocks".
Tuesday, May 13, 2025
Insights: After a stretch of activity, things are slowing down again. Enough to return to writing; I am eager to do so. The weekend was wonderful, and the value of the experiences is tenfold the investment of time and energy. But my comfort of being late is found in the quieter moments of reflection, and in creating the narrative, I have a compulsion to complete it as soon as possible. This year, ideally. I love my family dearly and cherish all the time I have and spend with them, yet my choices may not always align with their interests in what to do, who to see, and where to go. I still find myself agreeing to things out of a sense of obligation or because of limited opportunities. Yet I am starting to push back. Disneyland, for example. Jen is coordinating a trip to Disneyland with her son, Tommy, Lauren, and her Brother. I don't have any interest in going at all. None. That's somewhat out of character for me, as I have substantial memories of a childhood spent there routinely while growing up in the local area. And numerous trips over the past 30 years, too. But I am so done. Barring the good fortune of being given an all-expenses-paid trip with their top-tier concierge service escort and line-jumping benefits, I'll pass. Like most large concert outings, it takes more out of me than I get in return. We are going to see Nick Cave tomorrow with Matt B., an exception I made and now regret, as the idea of driving into and through SF is already offsetting the potential awe of seeing a performer I admire, Tommy routinely proposes outings and trips that I would not want to have missed while also recognizing my diminishing revenue stream and the stack of goals I have going unaddressed. All of these factors correlate to not taking care of oneself first. I need to be selfish when prioritizing the "big rocks".