(no subject)
I posted Great things await you. I envy it. You dream of Florence, of France. You'll walk the foreign streets, now your home, laughing, speaking beautiful, unfamiliar syllables. Your future's specifics are uncertain, but excitement and adventure are inevitable. The world - the entire world - is at your fingertips. You can and will do virtually anything and everything. Archaeology. Journalism. Art. Literature. All that is beautiful, unusual, creative. You will constantly think and constantly learn.
And as for me? Normalcy looms. My dreams consist of mere illusion which will never be realized. I am not exotic - will never be. I am doomed to be confined in my comfort zone, trapped like a caged tiger in an American zoo. My future is nearly laid out - I'll be told what clothing to wear (and probably what colors to wear as well), virtually residing in a stark, almost-too-clean hospital, or bound to a stiff, stuffy doctor's office which overcharges its patients. I'll be left to do the dirty work, to inflict pain - a job reserved for the lowly position of nurse. I'll take orders silently, belittled by doctors who believe that they are there to save the world, and their partners (or slaves, as nurses are often mistaken for) are there simply to clean up the mess.
My heart is bound with strong tethers. Deep within, I am like you - free, wild, uninhibited, a true dreamer. This is the cultured portion - the part that wants to learn languages, travel the world, accomplish above and beyond my wildest dreams. This portion of me, however, has been long-restrained. Inhibition guards it with the sharpest swords, the strongest barriers, the biggest guns. The defeat of knowing that this portion of myself is virtually impossible to release is devestating. Devestating, in fact, to the point of resignment.
So I accept it. I'll take my fate, my destiny, and leave you to yours, only wishing that I could come close to the level of freedom and prosperity you will achieve. I am obviously not the prototype for such accomplishments, such enlightenment. I'll stick to the rules, never wavering, and only ask you to continue bending them; for, after all, that is ultimately what they were meant for. My mind will never justify conformity of course, but my actions will tend to follow it. Call me a hypocrite - go ahead. I obviously am.
So I beg of you, never give up your dreaming. Though I may not follow in your footsteps and make my dreams reality, you and your dreams will always inspire me to strive for that which is above me. You will sit on top of the bar I will always be reaching for, but as long as you remain seated there, I will never stop reaching.
on my first day of posting on livejournal, in May of 2003. Six years ago. I'd like to respond to 18-year-old April from 24's perspective...
Dear younger, more naive self:
You were right about one thing. You haven't stopped dreaming, it's just that those dreams have changed from when you were in high school. Unfortunately, the real world requires money to do those amazing things, and you don't have any, and likely won't ever have enough (or any reason) to move to France. What you do have is a passion. A passion for caring for sick babies. There is nothing lowly about your future job, except for possibly the lowly amount that your particular hospital pays you. Yes, you do have to wear scrubs at work, but luckily nurses have stepped up and designed some pretty darn cute ones. Plus, they're comfortable. And, you even get to wear cute (and comfortable) shoes... The unit you will work in is warm, inviting, and who on earth told you that hospitals are clean?? You will, sadly, have to inflict pain on your patients, but you are most certainly not the first or only one to do it, and you will do so much more good than bad for the vast majority of them. You will help tiny babies to breathe, you will teach them how to eat, you will instruct their parents on how to care for them, you will love them all with a love that only certain people have. You will, in fact, take orders from doctors - it's the way the system works, and not a bad one at that - but you will not take them silently. In fact, many times, you will make suggestions as to what the doctors should do, and they will listen, and follow your advice, because it is you who knows your patients best. Your view of the doctor-nurse relationship is so skewed - I wish you hadn't had such a pessimistic outlook of your future career. Caring for premature infants doesn't quite consist of much normalcy at all, to be honest.
And as for all the dreaming... 6 years later you will have dreams. You will dream of a life where your husband, who you love and who loves you in return, has a job that he loves. You will dream of having your own sweet babies, and staying home to raise them. You will still dream of traveling, of seeing the world - and hopefully, one day, you will get to. You will dream of growing things, of organic living, of farming with your best friend, of having a lovely house to decorate. These will be your heart's desires. Your 24-year-old self also has a hard time justifying the idea that free, wild, and uninhibited are all qualities of cultured people. I wish you could have been happy with who you are, with what you want to do, because all of that is so much more important than you know. You will, one day, have a husband to love, a child (or two) to raise, and sick people to care for. How is that mundane? How is that "conforming?" You will influence lives with enormity. So what if you never move to France, never speak another language? (Oh, and by the way, you should have taken Spanish in high school. Maybe it isn't as "cultured" as French, but it sure would have come in handy when trying to communicate with the Hispanic population at your future hospital...) You will mean something to people. I wish, so much, that you didn't take yourself for granted so seriously, and that you weren't so sure that everyone around you would fly so much higher than you will. I wish you understood how smart you are.
We both - 18-year-old and 24-year-old self - have much to learn yet about the world, and life, and living. I'm sure we will look back at my current entries, reading how hard it is to move, and think "Oh, it was so easy back then, I had no idea...." But such is life. Ever-changing, ever-moving, learning the whole way. So, younger self, you weren't so bad as you think you were. You weren't dumb, you weren't "uncultured," you weren't ordinary. You just chose a different path than some of your friends (and a lot of them, not so different at all.) I wish you had realized how happy you would be.
And as for me? Normalcy looms. My dreams consist of mere illusion which will never be realized. I am not exotic - will never be. I am doomed to be confined in my comfort zone, trapped like a caged tiger in an American zoo. My future is nearly laid out - I'll be told what clothing to wear (and probably what colors to wear as well), virtually residing in a stark, almost-too-clean hospital, or bound to a stiff, stuffy doctor's office which overcharges its patients. I'll be left to do the dirty work, to inflict pain - a job reserved for the lowly position of nurse. I'll take orders silently, belittled by doctors who believe that they are there to save the world, and their partners (or slaves, as nurses are often mistaken for) are there simply to clean up the mess.
My heart is bound with strong tethers. Deep within, I am like you - free, wild, uninhibited, a true dreamer. This is the cultured portion - the part that wants to learn languages, travel the world, accomplish above and beyond my wildest dreams. This portion of me, however, has been long-restrained. Inhibition guards it with the sharpest swords, the strongest barriers, the biggest guns. The defeat of knowing that this portion of myself is virtually impossible to release is devestating. Devestating, in fact, to the point of resignment.
So I accept it. I'll take my fate, my destiny, and leave you to yours, only wishing that I could come close to the level of freedom and prosperity you will achieve. I am obviously not the prototype for such accomplishments, such enlightenment. I'll stick to the rules, never wavering, and only ask you to continue bending them; for, after all, that is ultimately what they were meant for. My mind will never justify conformity of course, but my actions will tend to follow it. Call me a hypocrite - go ahead. I obviously am.
So I beg of you, never give up your dreaming. Though I may not follow in your footsteps and make my dreams reality, you and your dreams will always inspire me to strive for that which is above me. You will sit on top of the bar I will always be reaching for, but as long as you remain seated there, I will never stop reaching.
on my first day of posting on livejournal, in May of 2003. Six years ago. I'd like to respond to 18-year-old April from 24's perspective...
Dear younger, more naive self:
You were right about one thing. You haven't stopped dreaming, it's just that those dreams have changed from when you were in high school. Unfortunately, the real world requires money to do those amazing things, and you don't have any, and likely won't ever have enough (or any reason) to move to France. What you do have is a passion. A passion for caring for sick babies. There is nothing lowly about your future job, except for possibly the lowly amount that your particular hospital pays you. Yes, you do have to wear scrubs at work, but luckily nurses have stepped up and designed some pretty darn cute ones. Plus, they're comfortable. And, you even get to wear cute (and comfortable) shoes... The unit you will work in is warm, inviting, and who on earth told you that hospitals are clean?? You will, sadly, have to inflict pain on your patients, but you are most certainly not the first or only one to do it, and you will do so much more good than bad for the vast majority of them. You will help tiny babies to breathe, you will teach them how to eat, you will instruct their parents on how to care for them, you will love them all with a love that only certain people have. You will, in fact, take orders from doctors - it's the way the system works, and not a bad one at that - but you will not take them silently. In fact, many times, you will make suggestions as to what the doctors should do, and they will listen, and follow your advice, because it is you who knows your patients best. Your view of the doctor-nurse relationship is so skewed - I wish you hadn't had such a pessimistic outlook of your future career. Caring for premature infants doesn't quite consist of much normalcy at all, to be honest.
And as for all the dreaming... 6 years later you will have dreams. You will dream of a life where your husband, who you love and who loves you in return, has a job that he loves. You will dream of having your own sweet babies, and staying home to raise them. You will still dream of traveling, of seeing the world - and hopefully, one day, you will get to. You will dream of growing things, of organic living, of farming with your best friend, of having a lovely house to decorate. These will be your heart's desires. Your 24-year-old self also has a hard time justifying the idea that free, wild, and uninhibited are all qualities of cultured people. I wish you could have been happy with who you are, with what you want to do, because all of that is so much more important than you know. You will, one day, have a husband to love, a child (or two) to raise, and sick people to care for. How is that mundane? How is that "conforming?" You will influence lives with enormity. So what if you never move to France, never speak another language? (Oh, and by the way, you should have taken Spanish in high school. Maybe it isn't as "cultured" as French, but it sure would have come in handy when trying to communicate with the Hispanic population at your future hospital...) You will mean something to people. I wish, so much, that you didn't take yourself for granted so seriously, and that you weren't so sure that everyone around you would fly so much higher than you will. I wish you understood how smart you are.
We both - 18-year-old and 24-year-old self - have much to learn yet about the world, and life, and living. I'm sure we will look back at my current entries, reading how hard it is to move, and think "Oh, it was so easy back then, I had no idea...." But such is life. Ever-changing, ever-moving, learning the whole way. So, younger self, you weren't so bad as you think you were. You weren't dumb, you weren't "uncultured," you weren't ordinary. You just chose a different path than some of your friends (and a lot of them, not so different at all.) I wish you had realized how happy you would be.