Empty bags

It used to be that I multi-tasked with the best of them, juggling several projects outside of work, numerous ongoing, work-related projects, and family. I sorted my life into bags with each aspect stuffed into a different bag so all I needed was to grab the appropriate bag(s) and I would be set for the day.

Now multi-tasking tires me – the thought of it tires me. I’ve wrestled with the little voice that shouts lazy, no ambition, sloth. I’ve battled with the demon that doesn’t care about things I once sought with passion. I’ve emptied bags as I simplified my life wondering if they will be filled again.

But the truth is, there are times I don’t mind the singularity of doing one task at a time. I’ve come to enjoy nothingness and rest, yet I wonder if this is the new reality or just a blimp on the radar that will move out with the next front. And when it moves out, will I be able to multi-task again? Will I want to?

When I struggle through treatment side effects where simple concentration is a monumental task, I wonder if clarity will return. It’s no wonder a single task is the best I can do when my brain feels shrouded in fog.

I can’t imagine my pride would ever allow me to become lazy, however, I have welcomed the empty bags. They were getting too heavy to carry much longer.

There is beauty in singularity. I’m enjoying the peace that comes with added simplicity. The only thing I would like to fill those bags with are memories and priceless moments with those close to me. Those bags will never be too heavy to carry.


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