I started realizing that I knew everything sometime around, oh, 16 years old. I pretty much had the whole universe figured out, and I was totally sure of my place in it. Yup, whiling away entire weeks in bed with books? Check. While eating as many Dutch mints as my tummy could hold, without feeling a smidge of guilt? Check. Not showering for two days? Sure, why not? Completely and utterly drowning myself in pure, unadulterated and soggy self pity? Check. Tons of times. Cans of frosting? Eaten remorselessly. Vapid journal entries detailing woeful unrequited love stories? Wrote volumes of them. Whatever I wanted or felt, I pursued, with almost mindless clarity and belief in myself. It's probably exactly how animals live their lives and trees grow old and die in the forest.
Now, at almost 30... I'm in a constant state of doubt. What should I be doing? What is the definition of "leisure time?" What is the definition of "marriage?" Am I on the "right" path? Am I supposed to be experiencing [insert experience] in [insert description] way? Is my eye makeup maximizing the forest green shade of my eyes? Am I wasting my time reading stupid stuff when I could be studying literature or Norwegian or biochemistry? Am I feeling my emotions as thoroughly as I can, appreciating each beautiful, quiet, hectic, ugly, stupid, humdrum, unforgettable moment as it comes? What if I didn't?! What if I took a nap instead?
Did I appreciate the nap?
As a newlywed (almost 2 years, has it been that long?), I still have a lot to learn about my relationship with Caspian.
I learned something today about true love. Open-minded and open-hearted and selfless and accepting. I read those two sentences and I wonder what initiated this cliché attack, but it's one thing to read about it in a book or see a 2nd-rate representation of it in a movie, and another thing to hug the person you've pledged your lifelong loyalty to and to realize that he accepts you more than you do. So much more.
It's funny how life changes. I used to be the opposite: I didn't worry constantly, but I made every effort to ensure that the oranges I bought weren't produced in Israel, that the clothes I wore were fairly traded and yet still pitch black, made me look like a goth princess and accentuated my breasts in the best possible way. I wouldn't go out unless I'd spend an hour in the mirror making sure I looked amazing. I chose my career path based on perceived status rather than inspiration. I let my boyfriend define who I was (to a certain extent).
ReplyDeleteNow, I don't care so much. I still second-guess, of course, what person can walk through life unburdened by the paths not-taken? But most of the time I just let my life unfold, sure that I know what's best for me, and following my dreams will make them happen. And what do you know: a police hat and a badge pinned on an old shirt turned out just as sexy as those outfits I pined over for hours on end.
But what about those times when you're following your dreams in general, but you have extra time on your hands? How do you decide what to do with it?
ReplyDeleteI watch TV, mostly. It only results in angst about half the time ;)
ReplyDeleteMy secret: call it research.