What you want in life often escapes you when you’re paying attention to too many things at one time.
“Focus on one thing,” they say. “Do one thing,” they say. Leave everything else behind and just do what you love. But then, what you love becomes the only focus of your life and then your possession and then your obsession, and before long, it’s an idol.
It doesn’t feel good anymore. It doesn’t feel free or fun. It feels like labor. Like work. Like something you’ve been commanded to do by the universe and now you hate them even more than you hate it. You hate yourself for thinking so highly of yourself to think you could ever move forward with something so heinous as the truth of who you are.
Then one day, you look up and find yourself knee deep in the thing you used to hate simply because you love it. Simply because it constantly takes your breath away. Because it has become something you need even if it isn’t something that can bring you what you once wanted.
Now you’ve returned to the heart of the thing. For the thing. Not for the what the thing may bring you.
You’ve found riches. And godly sorrow and compassion and love. And authenticity because you came back to the thing you used to hate simply because you loved it too much.
Doesn’t make sense does it?
Until you look up one day, and you’re writing just to write. You’re singing just to sing. You’re playing just to play. You’re running just to run.
And all of a sudden, you can breathe again.