The world spun in a familiar, yet unsettling, routine. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, each one a monotonous echo of the last. I'd attend friend's gatherings, a smile plastered on my face while my mind churned with anxieties, past and future, casting a dark shadow over the supposed merriment. Even solitary moments, intended for relaxation, were hijacked by a relentless inner critic, dissecting every misstep and future worry.
This realization dawned upon me, sharp and unwelcome, like a discordant note in a familiar melody. Years had slipped by, filled with obligatory "fun" devoid of genuine joy. The present moment, a fleeting butterfly, constantly eluded my grasp, lost in the labyrinth of regrets and anxieties.
The catalyst for change arrived unexpectedly, disguised as a small business venture. The weight of responsibility, the constant pressure to succeed, forced me to confront my inability to "be present." I craved an outlet, a refuge from the relentless mental chatter. It was then I understood the profound truth: I had forgotten how to play.
This realization, though initially daunting, became the spark that ignited a journey of rediscovery. I embarked on a quest to reclaim the lost art of play, a quest that, I soon discovered, was not unique to me. Many of us, burdened by the weight of obligations and the rigid structures of our childhood, had lost touch with the inherent joy of simply being present and engaged in the moment.
The first step on this journey was rediscovering what truly sparked joy. It felt absurd, almost childish, to embark on such a basic mission. Yet, the memory of unbridled enthusiasm, the laughter that bubbled up from the depths of my being, was a distant memory.
NEAL LLOYD
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