In the past year I’ve struggled with feelings of uncertainty, unanswered questions and an overwhelming cascade of local, state and federal happenings that have left my brain — well — foggy.
Last week, Minnesota Public Radio aired a segment about exactly what I’ve been feeling. Apparently, mental health professionals have a name for this unsettling feeling that isn’t quite burnout or hopelessness, but an aimless and somewhat joylessness that creeps into the day.
Turns out, I may be “languishing” — the feeling you’re muddling through your days, looking at life through a foggy windshield. The lack of motivation, lack of focus, quitting in the middle of tasks that once brought you joy.
One clue that I’m languishing is logged on my audiobook list. There are several books where I’ve abandoned the main character in the middle of his or her story. I have no interest in knowing how the plot ends.
I’ve always finished books because there’s always a twist that makes it a good story.
First is “One of Us is Lying,” by Karen McManus. It merges the “Breakfast Club” with “Pretty Little Liars” centering around five high school students in detention with only four of them walking out alive.
Sounds like a good story. Probably, but I never finished it.
Then there was “Grace is Gone,” by Emily Elgar. Suffice it to say, Grace is still gone because I never heard the ending to the story.
The latest is “Cilka’s Journey,” by Heather Morris. I eagerly listened to her other book, “The Tattooist of Auschwitz,” and enjoyed her weaving of history into fiction. Except Cilka’s journey is never-ending, since I abandoned her in the concentration camp.
So how do I — and others, for that matter — stop the lack of focus and disinterest?
Experts say a concept called “flow” or an immersion into projects may help.
As a result, I’ve jumped back into volunteering.
Last fall I taught first-time horseback riders the joy that partnering with an animal can be for us humans.
I worked with four amazing students who came in as timid passengers and left eight weeks later with a little more confidence that I hope parents are noticing at home.
I’ve also returned to the Rock County 4-H horse project, which languished over the year. The pandemic canceled last year’s Wednesday night riding sessions and the county fair. Many of these young riders sat at home, uncertain of what would become of the program.
I’m crossing my fingers that the flow of sharing an activity dear to my heart with students will replace that feeling of languishing brought on by this pandemic.