Split in two.

I feel split in two.

I feel conditioned for success, yet often long for its opposite; obscurity, simplicity, less.

Driven to have a voice, wondering if that requires sacrifice.

Walking warily down a road that has a perpetual fork unraveling ahead in the distance.

Is this how some seemingly go mad?

Who are those who are nurtured by both more and less? How do you give your voice whilst not losing your heart?

Peering in one sees achievement and growth. But, as I sit here looking outside at the swaying trees, with candles alight on my desk, with music playing along side me and herbs dancing in my mug, I am wondering if there is risk of stifling.

Oh friends, this is not a case of Instagram existentialism. I am not trapped. I am not living someone else’s ideal. I am certainly not without choice. But, I am unreconciled.

How do flights and meetings and Teslas and growth live in the same space as music and art and sex and contemplation? Is it a delusion that I am being fulfilled by both baskets of opportunity? Is it folly to believe that a right or a left must not ultimately be chosen?

I don’t know.