Rest or Retreat

Is it burnout, or is it something deeper?

I ask myself the question often.

I sit still, wanting only to remain between the lines.

There is no clear purpose in that moment—

only the desire to expand my world in ways that feel vast,

quiet,

and unimaginably safe.

A voice calls out.

A phone rings.

Life reaches for me.

And all I want is to stay right here—

in between the lines.

Responsibilities soften at the edges

as words take over.

Stories replace schedules.

Pages offer refuge where expectations do not follow.

But as the story unfolds,

a quieter question settles in beside me:

What am I achieving?

Is this rest, or retreat?

Healing, or hiding?

Am I restoring something that has been worn thin—

or avoiding the work of naming what hurts?

I don’t have the answer yet.

Only the awareness that the pull is real,

and that somewhere between exhaustion and escape,

something inside me is asking to be understood.