Zen? Zen? Anybody? Anybody?

I am looking for that calm zen place that I found last year, the place where nothing else mattered but the moment, where I knew problems would surface and retreat over and over, and I felt confident that the cycle would go on with or without me, so I might as well just go with it. I had a good conversation with Earl last night that had me thinking about how people make decisions. My memory of “good decisions” is that I felt at peace with them; they seemed congruent somehow, a missing piece to the puzzle. At the same time, it was like I _had_ to go after them. Deciding to go to Northwestern, deciding to do AmeriCorps, deciding to take an improv class, deciding to move to Chicago… these were all done hastily and lustily, right before a deadline or with great stakes on the line, like I was being pushed by some outside force to do them.

Things are looking up. I should be less edgy. The Diary Project is opening tomorrow, Becca and I just found out that our play is going up at a big fall festival, and I’ll have a fresh start no matter what job I end up in next year. Somehow I keep worrying myself with the details. I’m thinking about being at the beach, and how, instead of enjoying the waves going over your toes and the sand retreating underneath them, it’s possible to fret over the seaweeed and the jellyfish and the little shells.

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