2018:

“I just decided to do it.”

I’m tricking my brain into this new ‘go big or go home’ way of living because for far too long I’ve not been honoring (yes, honoring) what it is I’m meant to do with this life. Not that I know what exactly that is, or if I ever will. Anyway, what I have been doing is allowing myself to go along with the low or high tides, accepting things as they are, things that I never would have given the time of day to before now. I’ve let so many parts of myself go in the effort of appeasing or appealing to others that switching the lights back on is nothing if not a painful reminder of just how dim things have become.

It’s true that I’ve struggled all my life with ‘what do I want?’ or ‘what is it I was put here to do?’ and perhaps that is a cross I am meant to bear always. I wasn’t born with an innate sense of self and purpose and while I do hold a bit of envy for those that have that red-hot determination from the get, a part of me is also melancholic for them. I’ve forever believed that life shouldn’t be a series of ticked boxes and neat, pretty labels. There is no guide that says we must graduate, start a career, marry and have kids by 30. Because here’s the thing: What if the box-tickers are good enough at this one job that they think* *they were meant to do, but in all truthfulness, they could have been spellbindingly great at this other thing they never explored. They might never know, as their path was set from such an early age. I know – there’s my cross.

It’s the horizon that sings to me; it’s an endless series of ‘what if’s’ that drive this widening pit in my belly. Examples: What if I live to be 100 and never do the thing I was meant to do? What if that one chance, that one moment – that fork in the road – has already passed me by? What if everything I feel is not really what I feel, but what I’ve convinced myself I should feel? What if I was born with that innate sense but all the hurt and pain and life experience has trampled it down so far within me that there’s no way now to ever unearth that stone? What if what if what?

What if I was a mistake? No, hear me out. What if I wasn’t supposed to even be here? But I am here, and so I endure the frequent trips into others lives knowing it won’t last because I’m a vacation, not a destination. What if that’s my purpose? To be that reprieve or respite and nothing more? Is that a bad thing? Truly, I want to know if that is a bad thing to be. Because let’s say I *am *that and no more, this lends me to believe that I’m a bright spot or a sunshiny day after a week of storms, right? No, I’m not attributing any positives to myself, trust me, I’m merely examining the statement I just mentioned above.

I like the idea of being a bright spot. I like the idea of being a shoulder, an ear, a-whatever-you-need, but I’m afraid, too. I’m afraid of reaching the end, whenever that is, and wondering if (selfishly) I ever brought or contributed more. Because that’s what we all strive for, yes? To do more with our lives in a positive, impactful way. At least I hope the majority thinks that way! Otherwise what’s the point of it all?

In closing, I’m going to go full steam ahead on passion projects, far far away goals and hope the road rises to meet my feet.

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