So, that whole posting every day thing clearly didn't work out too well. This beginning blogger couldn't take the pressure. Anyways, moving on.
It’s such a strange state, being the age I am, feeling like I’m on the edge of my life. Maybe it always feels like this, like the next thing is forever, but this is just passing time. I try not to live like that, expecting more than what is right now. I love the right now. I love living with three other girls, pretending we’re having a sleep over every night. I’m sure that very soon the thrill will wear off, but for now, I love grocery shopping. I may not be able to spend money clothes or shoes, starving college student and all that, but I have to buy food. I still feel like a grown up putting things in the cart, sliding my card through the reader. I guess it’s not very grown up if it feels grown up. But I love it. I love that I get to pick my life. Everything I do, every place I go, is a choice that I am making. This church, this job, this class, they are my decisions for better or for worse. I love that. I’m not waiting for life to begin; I’m living a life that is slowly being created.
There is fear, too. The fear that it’s all coming together wrong. It’s hard to not view every choice as life-altering and scary. Every decision made seems trigger a hundred other related decisions that lead me further down the path in a direction I may or may not want to go. There’s the major, then the concentration, then the internship, then the career, then the specialty, then the trapped forever in a job I just fell into. I don’t want that. I won’t even get started on the boy related fears. It will only have me patting my own back again, reassuring myself that it will all be okay, eventually. I know that it will. One of the six-year old twins I watch knows it will, too:
“Eileen, are you going to have a baby?”
“Yes, hopefully someday. Maybe when I’m 25. Uh oh, that’s, um, soonish.”
“Can I watch your baby?”
“Are you going to have a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know, which do you think?”
“I think a boy.”
“Maybe I’ll have both.”
“Or I could have none. What if I don’t get married?”
Then, with a gentle pat on the hand, I was offered this gem: “Don’t worry, Eileen, you’ll get married.”
I’m choosing to take her advice. I’m choosing not to worry. A difficult proposition for someone who plans each day, each year, meticulously. I like things mapped out. My friends make fun of the way I run down our plans every time we go out. Sometimes I forget that my life isn’t scripted. I’m not living on the edge of something. I’m not living in a chain reaction with each decision triggering another. I’m not plodding along a pre-determined life path. I’m in the middle of something vibrant, and changing, and constant. I don’t believe that life has a beginning or an end. I believe I can only go deeper, so I had better get started.