MAYBE-MIGHT Hill-where I live

I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, NONE. It has not gotten any clearer as I have gotten older. In fact, it is less clear now, then it was before. Actually, I do not remember it ever being clear "before" either. I always looked on blankly as people would answer those questions like: "What will you be doing 1 year from now, 5 years from now, 10 years from now?"

I remember being really curious as to how some people seemed very certain about what it was they would be doing. They had a confidence in their voice, and a knowing quality. I cannot honestly remember what sort of nonsense came out of my mouth. I remember hoping to get something out of it, and be done as quickly as possible.

I just do not understand predicting the future or planning. It seems that when I do, things become more confused. But it is not a surrendered confusion. It is embroiled with turmoil, and brief moments of "Eureka! I've got it!" then followed by dissolution. I cannot imagine having children. How could I be this uncertain and provide a child with any sort of security? I would not even be able to lie about Santa or mythical snow bunnies. That is why I think it is very funny when people ask me why I don't have kids. duh.

I think routine can be very soothing. You wake up, know just where you are going, what you are going to have for breakfast and at what time. But this does not seem to happen in my life. When it does, I try to grab at it sometimes, and whisper, stay here with me, time. Stay so I know what happens.

But it is the French movie, alas. Perhaps the reason why they irritate me, is because they often end like my life on a regular basis. NO finish, no conclusion. Draw your own. What is it like to live this way? Well, you do see things all the time around you, because you are not on a set course. Ideas, intonations, motivations pop up when the world of "yes" or "no" is maybe. But it makes the practice of one-pointedness necessary so the brain can hold still on something for a moment. I am finding that the only place I can find stillness for a moment, is in the quiet of a spot, a circle that I breathe in and out of. It is not in actions, or in the day, or in what's next. Just that inner tomb that I get to in order to step out of maybe and "what could happen." It is the break in a storm.