My thoughts slip away from me, like water through fragile hands. Can birds fly if there is no laughter holding them up? I wish I had a phosphorus brooch. There’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself. But I’m frustrated. I’m 25, shouldn’t I have some of it figured out? What’s so great about dreaming? I can compromise my life. Work odd jobs, accept the monotony of each day, realize I am not where I thought I’d be at this age. I can live for the spaces between breathing, the quiet chaos. But I can’t compromise the life after mine. I cannot and will not. I can follow Ryan, happily, to each new job, each new place. I can put off school, be alright with mediocre dreams. I am no engineer, no blooming photographer, no excellent teacher or anything close to any of those professions. But I digress, the need comes before explanation. Years pass in the stretches between moments. Everything is closer. Louder. The trouble is, we think we have time. But if we wait to be ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives…or rather…if I wait…..
I have always been an unusual girl, with an indigo soul. Carrying an inner indecisiveness with me that wavers like the ocean, a compass struggling to find due north. And I’ve been living here, in the winter of my life…reminiscing on faded dreams and hopes, clinging to them like the last days of summer. Even as I sit and write this, I contemplate the repercussions of posting it. I feel my bones cracking under the weight of all the lives I’m not living. Owning my own tee shirt shop, coffee shop, book shop, being a writer, a real writer, traveling the world, becoming a mortician, an auto-mechanic, a teacher, a librarian, being a mother…..Mockingbirds do nothing but sing beautiful melodies for us. They sing their hearts out every day, that is what they know they were born to do. I do not have the luxury of knowing my talents or how to make a living with them.
So I put things off, I put things off, I falter. I quit. I second guess and re-group. I procrastinate out of fear of failure and in the end all I do is regret, which, is actually far worse.
That’s why, yesterday, I applied to college to get my Master’s degree. That’s why I’ve started doing. Not just talking about the what if’s or the somedays. No more planning, no more following other peoples’ ideas of happiness for me, I’ll follow my happiness and if life pushes me down, if I fall..I’ll get up and kindly tell life, “you hit like a bitch.” And I’ll continue. Because I cannot keep going, without doing. I don’t have time to wait. I will not compromise the life after mine, when all I want is to improve it. I will never be smart enough to be an engineer, nor will I ever have the fortitude to own my own shop. But darn it, I will be alright being surrounded by books, stories and children. And I’ll be one heck of a mother lion when the timing is right. Until then, I’ll learn. I’ll grow. And I’ll take this chance, for me. I will chase this dream and keep running after it even when we move, even when we stumble, when Ryan and I are on our honeymoon, even when I am out of breath and patience, I will keep living forward, and I’ll get my Master’s degree. For me. For my future.