The feeling of mediocrity

Mediocre...
A strong word.
A word that can define someone.
Define their life.

It signals an average individual. Someone who will live their life fairly unaccomplished. Having touched the few individuals around them, but leaving a minimal mark outside of that realm.

I fear being mediocre, and thus strive not to be.
Yet, at the same time I fear that I am, actually, mediocre.

I am average at most everything I attempt.
I am not a natural at everything I try, like some.

I must work for what I want, yet I find myself blocked by the struggle of becoming great.
My fear of being mediocre keeps me from trying (ironic, right?).

I have a desire to write, but I am an average writer.
I have a desire to teach, but I am an average teacher.
I have a desire to run a business, but I am average at that as well.
I am a mother, and am a fairly average one.

I lack passion, pizzazz... I am lackluster in my life.

Unsure about why I am lacking, I am, for the time being, stuck in a bewildered state about my inability to move past my own mediocrity to achieve greatness....

Parallel lives

It baffles me, how easy it is to pick up, move, and feel as if nothing has changed; yet everything has changed.

People I have known all my life, distant physically, yet never far away.

How we miss out on life events of those we love, are saddened by that loss, but seem to accept that loss for personal gains.

I am a wanderer. In and out of the lives of those who matter most to me. Always seeking the next joyride.

At times I am ambivalent.
At times I relish in my independent successes.
At times the gap causes me to silently suffer.
At times the grass is greener and I wish for the have nots in my life.

This emotional hurdle can be rigorous to jump over; to keep running the race.

But what is a wanderer to do?
We are doomed to seesaw between worlds. Between loves.
Leading parallel lives in alternate universes on the same planet.