Everything I’m passionate about must be rooted. It must have personal meaning– or else I won’t pursue it for long. At first I will want to impress you; at first I will want to earn your respect…at first, I will long for the approval of others. But external motivators have fleeting lives. Other people may never question what society says is right, what their parent say–what their peers say– is right. Even though I’ve strayed from society’s ideal path, I still subconsciously create goals that will please those around me. My projections are illusions, and I know that. But that’s so much of who I am: who others will me to be. Even if I don’t realize it. As far as I can detect, as far as my motivation can stretch, I can take control of my life and form my own assessment of life. Of what’s right for me to pursue. Of what will spark passion within me. I don’t know what that is yet, honestly.
A life with an undecided fate. That is my life. That is my destiny–no destiny at all. I create it, right now, in this breath of air. I breathe in, and I breathe out. And one day I don’t breathe anymore. So much of what happens to me is actually avoidable. Idleness, not doing anything, is avoidable. People say I have to stay here, you don’t understand. I have to. I need (money, security, friends, comfortableness). Then they go back to their lives, unfulfilled and lost. In their apparent perspective, they need to remain stationary. I was going to school, doing homework, paying rent, immersed in problems that sprout from my own decision, and not some fate that I am forced to abide by. I think a big reason I took my trip was to prove to myself that I have 99.9 percent of control over what happens to me. I was in an entirely different part of the country, around a random sample of people, with an approach to life that was previously locked in a dark room and which now shined bright with potential. A part of me that I didn’t want to waste was locked in that room. Someone who loves exploration, who loves exercising independence, who loves challenges, who loves the freedom that every person is awarded by nature. Nature awarded me the freedom to choose. And although my choices may be an illusion, although their limitations are subconsciously ignored, I wanted to exhaust them. I wanted to feel like I did have unlimited choices. And that I did have the courage, or blitheness, to revolt–to refuse choices society tells us is right. I think part of my decision was a product of rebellion.
“In a mind that is disciplined and purified there is no taint of corruption, no unclean spot nor festering sore. Such a man’s life fate can never snatch away unfulfilled, as it were an actor walking off in mid-performance before the play is finished. There is nothing of the lackey in him, yet nothing of the coxcomb; he neither leans on others nor holds aloof from them; and he remains answerable to no man, yet guiltless of all evasion”
March 2, 2014
There is no worse feeling than enduring paralyzing confusion. Than remaining stationary because it’s too hard to get up. Half of me is here. And half of me is still on the train, pondering a limitless future.
I do not know where to go from here. I’ve seen what I’m capable of, and what the world is capable of offering me. It is so hard to adapt back to how I lived before. My trip revealed a part of me that I loved. I could face a life–me, alone–and flourish with the few resources given to me. I can move from D.C to Atlanta to Chicago to Portland in one week, just because I feel like it. I can create new, beautiful friendships with strangers, without the aid of “connections.” Me. I did this. It all appears as if I dreamed these achievements.
When I realize that I’m capable of these things, I can’t help but wonder why.the.hec am I here? Why did I come back? I was happiest on my own. I think I always will be. Why am I motionless? Why is my progress stagnant? I thought I’d be able to settle for the life others want me to. I don’t know how true this is. Once again I’m caught between the life others want for me and the life I want for myself.
All that I’m required to attend to is this moment, and to maintaining peace and hopefulness. The only person responsible for my happiness is me. Approach and recoil get me no where. Why not just stand still? Let the moment engulf me–its presence asking only for self-discipline and nothing more? Do I receive any benefit from my fear? Or does it drain me… and bring me to my knees? Does it bully me? Does it give me hallucinations? Is it showing me what’s real? The things I fear will happen–they will only happen if I don’t produce an opposing force: hope, the natural force. There is no acceleration in either direction if those forces are balanced. Why not just stand still–just be here?