I haven’t posted too much because I’m taking a break from thinking too much (Ha.. yep). Things are good. They’re not spectacular but they’re solid good. Or solid up and down. Or solid miserable. It just depends when you ask.
I would say solid good 45-55% of the time, up and down 45% and solid miserable 8%. I have not idea what that adds up to.
I still have a sort-of-job. It’s part-time, so it isn’t really meeting any of my goals, but it’s something for the resume.
I don’t really miss California, other than my friends who are irreplaceable. And occasionally the lifestyle/cool shit there.
When I go to bed at night and it’s quiet and I can wake up and hike in the mountains I’m happy I’m here. When I drive I’m happy I’m here (WAY easier and less people). When my dad wants to do dinner with me or go golfing I’m happy I’m here. When my mom and I connect and get along I’m happy I’m here.
I recognize the weirdness of getting older and the people around me getting older and that I can’t get out of it. This didn’t hit me until recently–that you have to get older.
Don’t get me wrong, I still feel 12 years old inside and I can relate and talk to little kids and feel like one of them, but it’s like I’ve had all this time now being a 12 year old.
It makes me think it would be nice if we could get older and older, but not die so quickly. You would learn and know so much if you had the chance to be 400 years old. If parts of your mind and body could still function in this world (deep thoughts man).
I think right now I’m just super confused about what I’m doing with my life and my time. I’m sort of just floating around, not here or there. I still don’t know if I want kids. I don’t know when or who I’m going to marry. The thing is I feel like I’m supposed to know this by now.
And I truly do not know.
And I have to believe it’ll be OK no matter what. If I get to be 45 and don’t have kids and then decide I want one, there are millions of children in this world who need to be loved. At some point I will know if this is what I want or not.
I feel like I’ve had a long period of time where I’ve experienced the richness (for lack of better words) of life. I feel like I’ve experienced a lot of colors and sounds and pieces. It’s probably a lot less than many people, but for some reason having that behind me is comforting.
I feel less of a pull to get out in the world and want to conquer it. I felt that way in my 20s and early 30s and after college. Like there was this canvass I wanted to jump into and see what happened.
Now I feel more like burrowing into a nest and weathering the storms in a safe place. I feel like I have less to “prove,” if that makes any sense. Before it was like I wanted to prove I was awesome.
Now I guess I can see that you can be awesome anywhere and in any circumstance. You don’t have to show anything for it to be awesome. I admire more the ability to be at peace that I do have a lot to show for it. I admire more restraint (staying away from the things you are addicted to — FB, Internet, alcohol, etc.) than I do tallying up experience after experience that means nothing in the end.
I admire people who do things differently. Who play their own game.
People are icebergs, with loads you can see and loads you can’t.
~David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks
~Photo via Alex Cornell