Breathing Room, My Center, and Writing

I've lost my room to breathe. Day after day, running endlessly in the same wheel, I've been too busy clearing whatever tasks are urgent right now. I need to sort out next week's work, draw up a short-term strategy, set next year's milestones, sum up this year's results. Have I missed anything? Oh, and I need to exercise, look after my health, eat well.

Instagram, LinkedIn, YouTube, X, Threads, the news, the internet. All kinds of information fed into my brain in real time. News about competitors, new technologies, other people's achievements, other people's lives, the shining moments of those around me. A constant refill of dopamine and information, and I compare my own process with other people's results. I grow impatient. I need to get there quickly, too. I can't fall behind. Am I doing well enough? Am I missing anything? More, more, more. I need to do more. What? Why?

Maybe I've lost my room to breathe because I've lost my center, and lost my center because I haven't had time to sort out my thoughts. As for why I lost that time... perhaps urgent work kept barging in. Or perhaps I was hooked on Instagram and YouTube reels, scrolling endlessly. Cause and effect aren't clear. What does that matter? What matters is that I've lost it.

The world is terribly noisy. The capabilities of frontier models seem to have crossed some threshold. Wars aren't subsiding; they're taking on increasingly complicated forms. They might affect our own lives, too. Were the things I'd been worrying about really that important? What matters? In my life. What did I want to do? No, what do I want to do now? Questions about my center. I don't intend to answer them right away. And the answers wouldn't be unchanging, either. I suppose I just want to regain some balance, a center within the process, a pace of my own.

Maybe writing will help a little. I haven't been able to read or write for a while. Just as not running for a while weakens your ability to pace yourself and go the distance, not writing seems to weaken your ability to think, return to your center, and find your pace. Losing your room to breathe comes with it.

Record my thoughts. Write the stories I want to tell, and the stories I can tell. If that inspires someone, that's a good thing. But let's not write in expectation of a result.