my community, our community, grateful for all

I learned something important about myself today. A therapist once told me that I’m capable of forming attachments, and that idea really helped me understand my feelings better. It gave me a sense of stability. I can build connections and community in my life, and I’m grateful for that.

My confidence comes and goes, but I’ve seen that I can recover when things get hard. I’m learning how to refocus after setbacks, even small daily ones, and that feels important.

I think community matters more than we sometimes admit. Not in a perfect or idealized way, but in a real one—where people make space for both connection and conflict. Being connected helps us stay grounded and return to what matters instead of getting lost in stress or spiraling thoughts.

My own life has pushed me to learn some of these lessons in a very basic, necessary way. I have support from my family, but I’ve also had to figure things out on my own because of my mental health. That’s led me to find community both online and in person, especially at the monastery. It’s not perfect, but it’s real, and I’m learning to accept all parts of it.

I’m also coming to terms with who I am—my interests, my abilities, and what kind of work I can do. There’s something in me that I need to use, whether I feel ready or not. That means working through stress and anxiety instead of avoiding it.

Work, especially when it involves people, can be unpredictable and sometimes overwhelming. But even when I get thrown off, I’m learning to process the stress and return to my center—my work, my values, and my way of living.

I don’t think I need to apologize for any of this. I feel grateful.

At the same time, I’m realizing I need structure. Setting aside time to reflect and write like this helps, but it can’t replace actually doing the work. Part of this is learning to move through the stress instead of getting stuck in thought.

Today, while looking for work, I had a clearer realization: whatever job I take is also a kind of community. So I have to ask myself—who do I actually want to work with? What kind of environment fits me? That feels like a more honest place to start.

It also brings up a harder question: am I holding myself back from what I really want? Do I have the courage to build something of my own and stand by it? That would take care, effort, and persistence. It’s vulnerable, and it could be painful at times, but I don’t really have another option. It feels right. I have to keep going and push through the stress.

There’s always something to think about, something to work through. That’s part of the process.