Inspiration from one Nomad to Another
Over spring break I found myself. I haven't been lost, or even out of the room, I've simply been ignoring who I'm becoming. My path does't quite fit the road that everyone else seems to be taking and that's why I keep feeling lost when I try to read the "life map" everyone else seems to have in their backpack; my road markers are looking much less aligned and close together.
The first reckoning happened when I was sitting around a table with Scottie's family in Arizona. The family were passing around the first grandchild and, because the table was a continuous series of connected lines, eventually it came time for me to hold the baby. Scottie looked at me and grinned, "You don't want to hold her do you?" he asked looking at my big eyes and expression of terror.
"Not really," I answered hoping no one would hear me. Three people instantly turned to see who was rejecting their kin and asked, "Why? Don't you like children?"
"I'm just afraid that I'll break her," I answered truthfully. Babies are one of the few things that if you drop glue won't fix and maxing out your credit card won't make better. Also, what if it hates me? Children are like dogs, they can sense evil, if the baby freaks out then I'll be labeled the evil person that Scottie brought to the family reunion. The truth is babies frighten me because they've got all the power.
"You won't," he answered shrugging. "And besides, you can just pass her on." And with that he handed me the child whose big eyes opened even wider and tongue stuck out as she came toward me.
As she studied me she didn't cry in terror, she didn't even look alarmed. The baby simply looked me in the face, and then proceeded to examine my face, my necklace, her tiny fingers got caught in my hair as she played with it. She then proceeded to peer down my shirt while bracing herself on my chest. When I tried to pass her on she became visibly annoyed. She and I spent a quality 3 minutes together murmuring at each other before her great grandma got her, but even then she kept watching me. She was sturdy and well behaved. The baby seemed fun, like a little friend. It was the first time I've ever wanted one of my own to play with; a quantum-leap forward.
Later during that trip, the baby's mom made a point of speaking with me. She was maybe 10 years older than I am, but I think she saw a little of herself in me and maybe that I was feeling a bit lost. "So Rachel, where are you living this summer?" she asked one day, leaning over the arm of the corinthian-leather couch she was perched on.
"I don't honestly know," I answered a little forlorn because it was the truth. "I'm kind of like a nomad, I've lived in Appalachia, China, D.C., and Michigan within the last 2 years. I kinda wander from place to place."
"I used to be somewhat of a nomad too," she said with a knowing smile and proceeded to reveal she'd also lived all over the place; she'd even moved to Hawaii by herself. Eventually, she'd ended her nomad ways, moved back to Michigan, fallen in love with Scottie's brother, married him, and taken him back to California with her where they now lived with their baby in a nature-loving community. This may seem like a normal story but for me it was something of a ray of hope.
Sometimes I feel like society's sentencing me to a future where I end up alone and miserable because I'm doing what I want now rather than searching for true love and monetary success. It seems like everyone married their college sweetheart right out of college. After college I'm going to China. After being in China for about a year I'm coming back for the summer and living in California, Oregon or Vermont with Merissa in our inflatable furniture apartment; quote Merissa, "don't worry about the couch...we don't have one...or if we do we can wipe it off!" The following fall I'm going to law school...somewhere fabulous. After law school I don't know where I'll be, but I have a feeling it'll have trees and mountains. There's no room for anyone else in my plans who isn't willing to follow me as I wander from place to place.
I'd been ignoring that my nomad nature leaves me outside of the realm of normal guidelines. Just because I'm pretty sure I'd break a child now doesn't mean I won't be able to keep one together later. My relationships aren't not built to last, my current level of ambition is just going to kick them to death until I muster the will power to stick in one place long enough to let them last. I can't even keep a plant alive because I don't stay around them long enough to water them frequently; mentally replace the plant with a boyfriend or child...now you get my point. Scottie's sister-in-law showed me that there are other nomads like me and that it's okay to be one of them; I can fly where the wind is going to blow me and when the time is right it'll blow me in the right direction toward stability.
The first reckoning happened when I was sitting around a table with Scottie's family in Arizona. The family were passing around the first grandchild and, because the table was a continuous series of connected lines, eventually it came time for me to hold the baby. Scottie looked at me and grinned, "You don't want to hold her do you?" he asked looking at my big eyes and expression of terror.
"Not really," I answered hoping no one would hear me. Three people instantly turned to see who was rejecting their kin and asked, "Why? Don't you like children?"
"I'm just afraid that I'll break her," I answered truthfully. Babies are one of the few things that if you drop glue won't fix and maxing out your credit card won't make better. Also, what if it hates me? Children are like dogs, they can sense evil, if the baby freaks out then I'll be labeled the evil person that Scottie brought to the family reunion. The truth is babies frighten me because they've got all the power.
"You won't," he answered shrugging. "And besides, you can just pass her on." And with that he handed me the child whose big eyes opened even wider and tongue stuck out as she came toward me.
As she studied me she didn't cry in terror, she didn't even look alarmed. The baby simply looked me in the face, and then proceeded to examine my face, my necklace, her tiny fingers got caught in my hair as she played with it. She then proceeded to peer down my shirt while bracing herself on my chest. When I tried to pass her on she became visibly annoyed. She and I spent a quality 3 minutes together murmuring at each other before her great grandma got her, but even then she kept watching me. She was sturdy and well behaved. The baby seemed fun, like a little friend. It was the first time I've ever wanted one of my own to play with; a quantum-leap forward.
Later during that trip, the baby's mom made a point of speaking with me. She was maybe 10 years older than I am, but I think she saw a little of herself in me and maybe that I was feeling a bit lost. "So Rachel, where are you living this summer?" she asked one day, leaning over the arm of the corinthian-leather couch she was perched on.
"I don't honestly know," I answered a little forlorn because it was the truth. "I'm kind of like a nomad, I've lived in Appalachia, China, D.C., and Michigan within the last 2 years. I kinda wander from place to place."
"I used to be somewhat of a nomad too," she said with a knowing smile and proceeded to reveal she'd also lived all over the place; she'd even moved to Hawaii by herself. Eventually, she'd ended her nomad ways, moved back to Michigan, fallen in love with Scottie's brother, married him, and taken him back to California with her where they now lived with their baby in a nature-loving community. This may seem like a normal story but for me it was something of a ray of hope.
Sometimes I feel like society's sentencing me to a future where I end up alone and miserable because I'm doing what I want now rather than searching for true love and monetary success. It seems like everyone married their college sweetheart right out of college. After college I'm going to China. After being in China for about a year I'm coming back for the summer and living in California, Oregon or Vermont with Merissa in our inflatable furniture apartment; quote Merissa, "don't worry about the couch...we don't have one...or if we do we can wipe it off!" The following fall I'm going to law school...somewhere fabulous. After law school I don't know where I'll be, but I have a feeling it'll have trees and mountains. There's no room for anyone else in my plans who isn't willing to follow me as I wander from place to place.
I'd been ignoring that my nomad nature leaves me outside of the realm of normal guidelines. Just because I'm pretty sure I'd break a child now doesn't mean I won't be able to keep one together later. My relationships aren't not built to last, my current level of ambition is just going to kick them to death until I muster the will power to stick in one place long enough to let them last. I can't even keep a plant alive because I don't stay around them long enough to water them frequently; mentally replace the plant with a boyfriend or child...now you get my point. Scottie's sister-in-law showed me that there are other nomads like me and that it's okay to be one of them; I can fly where the wind is going to blow me and when the time is right it'll blow me in the right direction toward stability.