I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, either

It’s true. Sometimes I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.

Do you know? All the time? Or are you like me, where sometimes you figure out one part but in another area you’re completely lost?

I don’t have everything all planned out with a clear agenda, all the time. I’m constantly evaluating where I’m at, where I’m going, and sometimes where I’ve been. I say sometimes because I don’t like to live in the past. I tread lightly on where I’ve been. Mostly I evaluate where I’ve been so I don’t repeat mistakes like buying knock-off Payless Birkenstock sandals or eating an entire pint of ice cream in one go.

I’m okay with not knowing what I’m doing all the time. In fact, I imagine that it might be kind of boring. It would be like an episode of Star Trek where they explore a new world, log some plant life, and eat a nice dinner. Without Klingons, tribbles, or time warps to throw them off every now and then, the show is basically a nature documentary. I’m asleep already.

It’s easy to view seemingly successful people through their online accounts and think they’ve got it all together. If you think about it, social media is just one giant resume, where we inflate our accomplishments and craftily explain why we were out of the workplace for so long. It may have been prison, or maybe it was staying at home with the kids, but either way it sounds like we were the master of our destiny the entire time. And that’s totally okay because that’s how we have to get along in the Land of Employment.

But when applied to life outside of the job market, that tactic can create a false sense that we’re always winning. Winning! Or at least can look like that to others.

I get fooled with this all the time, particularly when I’m scrolling through Instagram. Suddenly I think I could be doing better in my family life, I could be achieving more, I could be meditating on a sequined cushion on a hill overlooking the ocean instead of scarfing oatmeal cookies in front of Ted Lasso. I can get stuck there sometimes in that dark, moldy place inside my head where everything everyone else does is gold and everything I do is shit.

And other times I can shake myself back into reality, sip my third cocktail, and just be okay with who and where I am.