Fully Starving

Stop. Breathe.

It all feels so real. The carefully procured creation in front of me. So real and yet so far. It reveals everything but it reveals nothing.

I know about you, but I don’t really know you.

I know you baby wear or that you’re home alone a lot while your husband travels. I know your dad is dying or that your child is in rehab again. I know you’re estranged from your family and from their comments I can see why. I know you’re eating paleo or I know you’re on your second round of chemotherapy.

But I know all these things while sitting in my torn sweatpants on the couch when I should be doing almost anything else. I learn these things when I’m trying to avoid eye contact in the checkout line. I read your latest updates when the red light is too long. I have 10 work emails to return and only four minutes to do it.

My head is filled with information: with voices and images. It’s filled with stories and with rage-filled arguments. A video of a police shooting autoplays before I can stop it. An image of a dying child held by her parents fills my screen before I can scroll past. I watch a boat of refugees almost drown. A child doesn’t make it. And my 30 second respite from the real world is at once removed and utterly devastating. Now I have a meeting I’m late for.

Stuff. Stuff. Stuff. Stuff it down.

My world is at once lonely and flooded. I know so much but have touched so little.

My life is ridiculously busy. I should spend more time with friends but where is there any time? How can I fit more into my world? How, in God’s name, can I digest one more thing? I am starving and bloated; craving contact but also stuffed full until my skin feels raw.

My life is ridiculously busy. I should try to eat more organic vegan paleo nutrient-dense homemade meals from scratch. But I find meals catch me by surprise almost every time. Oh, we’re supposed to eat again? Scramble.

What is this life? I keep waiting for it to find it’s balance; to settle into a pattern that makes any sense. It doesn’t.

Pack the car for the day. I’ll need a change of clothes for everyone, two for my oldest. Make sure to bring water bottles, preferably filtered and non-disposable. The earth is dying. Have to do my part. Don’t forget my laptop so I can get work done when I steal a few minutes.

I keep waiting for this elusive balance. For it to make sense. It doesn’t.

We just keep going. I seem to be the only one bothered by this. Everyone else has adapted fine. Am I the only one who feels there is something terribly wrong? I could almost believe that.


Except that I have plenty of clients who drink up my eye contact like it is cool water in a desert. Those who relish the thought of turning off their phone for one blessed hour. And it is only for that reason that I know; We are all fully starving. At once anxious and flat. At once overwhelmed and bored.

We are not wired this way, you and I.

I guess what I’m saying is: if you are desperately busy. Waiting and waiting and waiting for it to fall into a balance that makes sense. A balance that evades you.

You are not alone.


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