The man who wears yellow pants in January. And who named his book but forgot to write it. The man who thinks in philosophy, dreams in heroes, and talks in feelings.
Too busy wrestling with life to love it, too busy deciding what to write about to write anything at all. Thinking he can't begin because surely this has been done before. Instead of just beginning.
That's my story. But what's yours?
No one ever tells you growing up that you're never really grown.
You pass through middle school praying to make it to high school wishing you were in college just dreaming of being a working professional. And when you're there, you spend most of your days thinking about finding the one. Waiting for your wedding day and when it arrives you don't celebrate because you're too busy answering questions about when the babies are coming. Too busy paying the bills, buying the house, checking off the next checkbox before true life can truly begin.
It never feels like you've made it. No matter where you've been.
Go ahead and forget how ridiculous it is when they ask these questions: Are you married yet? When are the babies coming? They don't even know why they ask them. Or worse, I wonder why we even entertain such thoughts -- why we let them consume us.
Measuring our own lives by a stick of comparison rather than going after what we dream.
And yes, sometimes we want what they talk about, but let's be honest, that's rare. Then we hear the questions enough, and we grow to want these things too. When we get one thing, we want the next, setting us on a quest for the mirage of happiness.
And trust me, they'll let us spend our whole lives fighting to give the world what they want. But in the process, robbing the world of what it needs. Our one creative and beautiful life.
So, we spend our nights going out to bars to meet people we don't even like to be around, just to make someone like us. We spend our Sundays under steeples singing hymns and throwing stones at people who aren't that different from ourselves, just to prove ourselves worthy. We buy houses and stay put inside of them, constructing taller fences hoping our neighbors can't see the unhappiness we house inside. We build trophy cases full of awards because we care more about our legacy than being real.
We're single and wishing we weren't. We're married and wishing we were single. Each day spent hungry for someone else's life, someone else's body, someone else's anything but our own. Don't worry if you find yourself wishing - chances are someone is wishing for your life, too.
They've taught us to value youth, so we fear getting older. And the only thing worse than getting older is getting older alone they say. Telling us about this ticking clock - tick - tick - tick. And when it's at the end, our chances are over. Forcing us to grasp tightly to the moment that is now. Fearing if we screw up that it'll define every inch of the rest of our lives. So we don't give ourselves room to breathe, room to dream, or even room to live the life we could.
I'm sorry if it seems I've stacked a soapbox on top of my normal soapbox and stepped up for a Thursday evening sermon. But when friend after friend after friend finds themselves turning thirty and feeling stuck in culture's box, wishing they could live their own life without the ticking clock in the background, I think it's time someone said something. Maybe it's because I'm single and I'm not willing to go down alone. Or maybe it's because the rules we've created shouldn't even exist.
In the end, there is only one thing that can dispel fear. And that thing is hope.
I learned that from The Hunger Games.
Sure, you should have hope that you will get the things you want. You will. But more than that, you should have hope that there's more to this life than getting what you want. And certainly more to life than aiming to get what they want.
Don't be afraid to ask: Why do I want this? If you find yourself coming back to your heart, go for it. If you find yourself pointing to others, particularly to please them, consider running from it. Right now is the perfect time to begin answering that call you've let ring again and again like a morning alarm clock. Stop hitting the snooze.
Think of it this way, every thing that has come your way before now, you've handled it. Maybe not always with the grace you hoped, but always with success. You're here, and each experience makes you better, if you let it. Now, when life comes your way, you can say with confidence - I will handle it. It's not always easy. And if you're following your heart, it's almost guaranteed not to be. But, it will be worth it.
Love, y'all.