A few days ago, I read through some of my old journals, breaking in the new red corduroy couch in my room. Reading an old journal is always a great self esteem booster and mood booster in general (depending on what you’ve written/experienced in the past, but they still usually help). You remember all of the great times you’ve had, things you’ve thought, things you’ve worried about that worked out, doodles you drew when you didn’t have anything to say, and you see the bigger picture.
I have a tendency to zoom in. It’s as if I’m in google maps, and I want to know how to get to where I want to go so badly that I zoom in until I can’t even see the road. All I see is a fuzzy white screen and maybe a few pixels of yellow.
Other times, I zoom out, having an existential crisis, wondering how long I’ll live and what I’ll get done and if I can get done all the things I want to get done while I’m zipping around on this spinning planet. In google maps, I’m so zoomed out that I can’t even see the state I’m in.
There seems to be a sweet spot, an in between, the perfect level of zoom that lets you see the roads. And unlike in google maps, I can’t necessarily see where I’m going, but at least I can see where I am and maybe a few steps ahead.