just call me madame bovary
So I was thinking earlier. Just random, nonsensical stuff... I was thinking about how paralyzing choice can be, and how cruel we are for telling children that they can be anything they want to be, that there's a world of possibilities out there. Because there's always that doubt lurking in the back of the mind (or in my mind, at least) about whether or not this is the right path-- how am I supposed to know when to stop searching if my options are limitless? Is this the right career for me? The right partner? Where are the violins and the angelic choirs, cueing me in that I am meant to be a world-famous archaeologist and that Rick is "The One"? The problem is that everything feels like "settling" when you've grown up believing that nothing short of becoming a famous rock star/astronaut/president will do.
I was also thinking of the theory of infinite universes, and fantasizing about all the different ways in which my life will play out in each one. I'm a writer, a doctor's wife, a veterinarian, a paleontologist, a Latin teacher, an editor, a translator, a wildlife rehabilitator; I'm unemployed. I'm happily married, I'm divorced, I'm single, I live with my parents. I die young, I live to see my great-grandkids, and everything in between. I imagine myself looking down on all the universes from above and hand-picking the one in which I am the happiest, and choosing that one in which to immerse myself.
But since that's not possible, I'm left with the suspicion that these other Megans are really just viruses, parasites, draining me and distracting me from moving forward with this life. My survival depends on learning to shut out the siren calls of these other Me's and to be content with the way things are now going. I'm too young for "what ifs"...
I was also thinking of the theory of infinite universes, and fantasizing about all the different ways in which my life will play out in each one. I'm a writer, a doctor's wife, a veterinarian, a paleontologist, a Latin teacher, an editor, a translator, a wildlife rehabilitator; I'm unemployed. I'm happily married, I'm divorced, I'm single, I live with my parents. I die young, I live to see my great-grandkids, and everything in between. I imagine myself looking down on all the universes from above and hand-picking the one in which I am the happiest, and choosing that one in which to immerse myself.
But since that's not possible, I'm left with the suspicion that these other Megans are really just viruses, parasites, draining me and distracting me from moving forward with this life. My survival depends on learning to shut out the siren calls of these other Me's and to be content with the way things are now going. I'm too young for "what ifs"...