I think about you leaving now and the avalanche cascades
There are just some songs that make me weak and warm inside, that make me tear up. "The Temptation of Adam" by Josh Ritter is one of them. I get more emotional lately. It's true of this time of year in general, and it's especially true of this year specifically.
So this is it. The precipice of real life, as determined by a suburban childhood. It's been made clear to me that you graduate high school, you go to college, you find a job, get married and eventually settle down for the rest of your life. That's not what everyone does, I know. I've made a blanket, generic statement, and yet that seems to be what is expected of me. I don't know who or where it comes from; certainly not my mom, perhaps my dad.
Regardless of where or how I managed to internalize these predetermined life goals, this is the beginning of it. Or the beginning of the end, at the very least. This semester I've gone to class, and I've felt nostalgic, I've even teared up. How strange, to feel nostalgic for something that hasn't yet passed. I remember this feeling from high school. But in high school I was anxiously awaiting college while simultaneously knowing how much I would miss the bubble that my childhood had been. Now what am I supposed to look forward to, given the very specific order my life is supposed to follow?
Since high school, I've decided to revamp the future I had so meticulously planned out for myself, even while I claimed it was merely a vague notion. "oh yes, I'm getting my Ph.D. in psychology and I'm going to be a clinical psychologist...haha yes, that is a lot of school...well it's what i've always wanted to do..." That conversation has played out so many times, I've discussed my concrete plan for my future in that offhand way for so many years, I stopped questioning whether or not that's what I want.
I remember thinking that for how indecisive I am with everything else in my life, this is something I've always known as true. This plan, my life goal, was my beacon of hope. Proof that I wasn't as spacey, flakey, or wishy-washy as I so often felt.
I've had my share of breakdowns this year. That's alright, they needed to happen. They needed to happen because I know that it's ok, maybe even better, that I don't know what I want to do. I don't want to look back on my life, look at my 20s, and think, I've been locked into "the world of work" for more decades than I was free. Free to think, travel, swear, drink, laugh, explore. And I thank The Local for a lot of things, and perhaps resent them for just as many, but regardless, I am eternally thankful for the opportunity to have this job that allows me to afford living in a city, to travel, to buy what I need and what I want, during this time of unrest, of uncertainty.
And I'm thankful for this time of uncertainty. I'm thankful that I'm breaking out of this bubble. As frequently as I fear what my dad will say, as frequently as I fear that this looks like an admission of failure, as another reason that I was never voted "most likely to succeed," I am just as frequently feeling lucky that I stopped before I got too far ahead of myself.
I don't care if I get married in the next decade. I don't care to have children for at least 10 years, and I don't want to be bogged down by a job in a city I don't want to live in. I'm taking time to consider my decisions. By "looking at other options" I really mean, I want to look at other options. There's something out there that's right for me, something I'll want to dedicate my life to, and if I haven't found it yet, then I shouldn't settle.
I'm excited for my internship at Ascension Place, I'm excited to take an active role in exploring my future, as panicky as informational interviews make me. I want to know more.
And I'm so eternally grateful for Micah. "King of Patience" as Meggy calls him. To have someone relentlessly support me, encourage me, believe in me is incredible. I can't believe I found him, or that he found me. God, and we believe in the same things. He doesn't think I'm crazy, or going through a phase, or immature. He's perfect. He's just, so... good.
And I can breathe deeply, and appreciate everything i'm feeling right now. I don't want to be someone who looks back on their life and wonders where their dreams went, I don't want to be jealous of the limitless potential of 22 year olds when I'm older. I want to appreciate it while I have it.
So this is it. The precipice of real life, as determined by a suburban childhood. It's been made clear to me that you graduate high school, you go to college, you find a job, get married and eventually settle down for the rest of your life. That's not what everyone does, I know. I've made a blanket, generic statement, and yet that seems to be what is expected of me. I don't know who or where it comes from; certainly not my mom, perhaps my dad.
Regardless of where or how I managed to internalize these predetermined life goals, this is the beginning of it. Or the beginning of the end, at the very least. This semester I've gone to class, and I've felt nostalgic, I've even teared up. How strange, to feel nostalgic for something that hasn't yet passed. I remember this feeling from high school. But in high school I was anxiously awaiting college while simultaneously knowing how much I would miss the bubble that my childhood had been. Now what am I supposed to look forward to, given the very specific order my life is supposed to follow?
Since high school, I've decided to revamp the future I had so meticulously planned out for myself, even while I claimed it was merely a vague notion. "oh yes, I'm getting my Ph.D. in psychology and I'm going to be a clinical psychologist...haha yes, that is a lot of school...well it's what i've always wanted to do..." That conversation has played out so many times, I've discussed my concrete plan for my future in that offhand way for so many years, I stopped questioning whether or not that's what I want.
I remember thinking that for how indecisive I am with everything else in my life, this is something I've always known as true. This plan, my life goal, was my beacon of hope. Proof that I wasn't as spacey, flakey, or wishy-washy as I so often felt.
I've had my share of breakdowns this year. That's alright, they needed to happen. They needed to happen because I know that it's ok, maybe even better, that I don't know what I want to do. I don't want to look back on my life, look at my 20s, and think, I've been locked into "the world of work" for more decades than I was free. Free to think, travel, swear, drink, laugh, explore. And I thank The Local for a lot of things, and perhaps resent them for just as many, but regardless, I am eternally thankful for the opportunity to have this job that allows me to afford living in a city, to travel, to buy what I need and what I want, during this time of unrest, of uncertainty.
And I'm thankful for this time of uncertainty. I'm thankful that I'm breaking out of this bubble. As frequently as I fear what my dad will say, as frequently as I fear that this looks like an admission of failure, as another reason that I was never voted "most likely to succeed," I am just as frequently feeling lucky that I stopped before I got too far ahead of myself.
I don't care if I get married in the next decade. I don't care to have children for at least 10 years, and I don't want to be bogged down by a job in a city I don't want to live in. I'm taking time to consider my decisions. By "looking at other options" I really mean, I want to look at other options. There's something out there that's right for me, something I'll want to dedicate my life to, and if I haven't found it yet, then I shouldn't settle.
I'm excited for my internship at Ascension Place, I'm excited to take an active role in exploring my future, as panicky as informational interviews make me. I want to know more.
And I'm so eternally grateful for Micah. "King of Patience" as Meggy calls him. To have someone relentlessly support me, encourage me, believe in me is incredible. I can't believe I found him, or that he found me. God, and we believe in the same things. He doesn't think I'm crazy, or going through a phase, or immature. He's perfect. He's just, so... good.
And I can breathe deeply, and appreciate everything i'm feeling right now. I don't want to be someone who looks back on their life and wonders where their dreams went, I don't want to be jealous of the limitless potential of 22 year olds when I'm older. I want to appreciate it while I have it.