I’ve had a week off from school now and the whirl has subsided. When school is in session, my life feels like it has direction and meaning, however short-term and contrived. In some ways getting another degree feels ridiculously arbitrary as a goal, like digging a hole in the ground and knocking a ball into it with a stick, becoming really good at stick-swinging, better than anyone else (though a hole-in-one actually benefits no one). Of course I hope I can be of benefit to others through counseling, and I hope it can keep us financially in the black even though I will be starting a new career at 60. At least counseling pays better and is more physically sustainable into old age than pitching 50 pound bags of mulch into people’s trucks at Home Depot.
When I’m no longer pressed by arbitrary class deadlines, the expansiveness that opens up blows emptiness into my soul. Why am I here? What meaning does my life have? How can I make a difference in a world that has sloughed me off like Teflon? Even wearing an orange apron and pointing at the wasp spray is a distraction from the hollowed out feeling of having no purpose but to somehow survive until death relieves me of that obligation.
Each day at work is measured in hours passing–to somehow fill the time until my first break, then slog 2 hours till lunch, then manage to stay busy enough till the afternoon break, which puts me close enough to the end of my shift to give faint hope of escape. That game of monotony is still better than sitting at home trying to make sense of the life I was handed like a bag full of small parts that come with no explanation or instructions.
It helps a little to talk about it, so thanks for listening.
Janathan Grace Reflections 
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