I look around and see so many things that NEED to be done. I walk past items that need to be addressed. My phone has the alerts blowing up. I sit or stand in a stationary position unable to move, unable to think, unable to function. I wait for the items to take care of themselves, knowing full well that is NOT going to happen.
The laundry is getting done but the folding and hanging is not happening. The dishes are in the sink, but they still need to be washed or put in the dishwasher. The house is vacuumed, the pets are fed, these things need attention daily without a thought. Now, they require a plan which includes reminders. I realize this is perhaps how the hoarders and people we deem as strange may have begun. Just a simple state of being confused, or hurt, or stuck. Maybe it was tragedy that invaded their existence, maybe it was illness, maybe they just became overwhelmed and had no one or nothing to motivate them, to bring them back.
Searching for the place where concentration used to be, the place where things used to be accomplished, I now question whether I was ever able to make anything happen. I have this question because seemingly, getting things done is virtually impossible.
Riding along side concentration, or lack there of, is joy. They both appear to be getting lost, and a collision course with despair is clearly ahead. No one wants to be in these places; and for certain you don’t want to have people YOU care about in these places with or because of YOU. Know your friends and/or loved ones are enthralled in a battle, a battle of which they have never encountered before, and of which the outcome is still quite unclear.