bored.

i’m bored. i feel like this is like the new motto of twenty twenty, ya know. we’ve been inside our houses doing all the things we wanted to have time to do. our closets are all marie kondo’ed and we have made like eighteen different kinds of bread. we’ve bought yarn and made tik tok videos and even actually watched election footage for more than fifteen minutes. we’ve had book clubs and happy hours via zoom and if we are being super honest, our spouses are probably a little over us. but i haven’t really been bored. until now. because the last eight months have been a little different for me. i’ve been spending most of my time trying to heal. from the trauma of having a harrowing twenty two day journey with an infectious disease followed by a pretty wicked and aggressive cancer diagnosis. and so here i am, marching proudly into december in just a few days feeling bored. i’ve done my fair share of closet cleaning and diamond paintings and baking banana bread. don’t come for me quite yet because i’ve been there too. but now i find myself looking for a hobby. yikes. cringe. a hobby at thirty two years old. because it’s gonna look a little different this time. this hobby or whatever it is. ya see, the thing that i am most passionate about also happens to be my career. which i’ve stepped away from while receiving cancer treatments. nothing gives me more purpose or fills me as a person more than when i am standing in the front of my classroom with my students looking back at me. pandemic or not. that’s where my heart is. my other great passion happens to be this. this blog. weird right? it started as a therapy tool and now it’s serving a purpose. but sometimes, and what i really mean is all the time, writing is emotional for me. it’s therapeutic. it unblocks a lot of hard things for me. it often brings sadness or pain or heartache before it finally brings peace. and that’s why it can’t be my new hobby. because it wouldn’t be able to bring me peace everyday. and that’s okay.

for the last few years, i’ve had vivid dreams. and often times, the same reoccurring one. and if you know me, you know that i have a thing about dreams. that often what i dream about in my subconscious, comes to fruition at some point. not always the next day or even in the next week. but always. i’ve had a reoccurring dream that i would die at the age of forty four. from a heart attack. i know, i know. it sounds crazy. and i think so too. but here i am, kinda at a crossroads in my life. on a health journey that’s some kinda serious at the age of thirty two. and i have started to believe that this is the year that will change my life. this is that year. where i take back all that’s been taken from me. where i publish a book. who gives a shit if no one wants to read it? where i publish my blog as a book of essays. who gives a shit if no one wants to own it? where i learn yoga and take a non credit class. who cares if i’m not good at it? because the truth of the matter is, i caught my cancer purely by accident. i don’t usually have routine ct scans nor do i get a yearly mammogram. if i had waited six months, we would be having the end of life conversation right about now. at thirty two. not forty four like my subconscious used to think. i think you have to get bored sometimes. not in the like sunday afternoon bored so i’ll watch a show i already watched til dinner but like bored with how things are going. bored in the comfort zone. bored where it used to feel good. because right now, i’m not pursuing my passion in life. i’m not teaching. online or in person. and i miss it. and i think it misses me. and while i know that my writing is pretty great {subtle humble brag}, i also know that i have to take it further. i have to give it the chance it deserves. even though that scares the hell outta me. because that imposter syndrome comes out. because i failed english one oh one at the community college thirteen years ago. it wasn’t because my writing was bad. nah my writing was pretty killer. but my attendance was not. and that imposter syndrome makes me believe that this blog can’t be anything without more followers on social media or a fancy website or a brand or a manager or whatever. and maybe that’s true. but i do know that my blog impacts at least one person each time i hit publish. and i know what it does to my soul to unleash some of the harder things that i’m holding onto. and maybe i will be the next brene brown. or maybe i’ll just be me. but if i stay bored, i’ll stay bored. that’s what i will be. just bored. but it’s time to do something else. it doesn’t mean walking away from everything you love and it doesn’t mean deserting your passions. it’s stepping out into the unknown. it’s taking a little leap outta the place you’ve been for a while. it’s signing up for a class. or calling the number on that business card in your wallet. it’s putting faith into yourself. you’re bored. and only you can change that.

today i found myself standing in my driveway, crying. i had just cut two onions for this soup that i’m making. shocker. cooking because what else is there to do. and i just said outloud- ‘i think i’m bored’. and honestly, it’s the truth. because just twenty four hours ago, i had a conversation with the long term disability company. and the lady on the phone asked me what i do during my days, since i’m not working. and i struggled to find the right way to tell her that my days consist of me napping, sleeping, playing card games with my family and often times, crying. throw in a few therapy sessions and infusions and you’ve got a good overall picture. but i realized, wow. i have very little to contribute to the ‘what do you do in a day’ conversation. at thirty two. so there i am in the driveway. crying because i don’t have a hobby. crying because all the things that drive me as a person; all the things that literally make the most sense in my life- are on hold right now. and it has broken my spirit. but in the same moment, i know that this year will be the year that changes my life. and i don’t mean the lottery or fame or new york times bestseller. it’s going to be the year that i do all the things i want to do and should’ve done a long time ago.

boredom looks different to everyone. but for me, it’s beginning to feel like a fresh start. a new opportunity. a time to take a chance on me. because in twenty twenty one, cancer’s name gets crossed off the ‘to crush’ list and my dreams are next in line. so here’s to ending the boredom. finding new passions while the ones we love take a quick break. and to finding ourselves. whatever that looks like.

xoxo.