I'm not even sure whether it's me who's in the way of life, or life is in the way of me.
Periods like the one I'm going through are easily dismissed as "transitional;" something that won't last and probably is leading up to something better. But I have to wonder:
Is it real what we, human people, tell ourselves whenever things get too much to handle or life spurs out of control, that "everything will be alright eventually?" Is it not some random things happening to each of us, the bad and the good? If we tally the good and the bad in each of our lives, are they supposed to magically level off?
Self-pity is pathetic, but it's kind of comforting to know that you sympathize with your own self. I mean, right now as I'm feeling in the way of so many lives, so many happinesses, so much going right for people I care about (including my own self), I kind of like the fact that I'm not hating myself for it.
The way I see it, life also is getting in the way of me being a normally functioning human being. I was not made for waking up at 6:15, toiling my way through life without relishing in the sweet taste of meaningful connection with other human beings. The fakery of smiles and giggles to strangers you work or study with, who think they know you because they know your first name is draining. The weeks spent without good company, with no rush or excitement at the prospect of doing something or seeing someone you love is painful.
Monotony is painful. Loss of passion and purpose is painful. Boredom is deadly.
So I ask for help, and what I get is a concoction of tried and tested formulas of how to be a normal person. How to get your rough ends rounded enough to fit in the nice cookie cutter shape of the ambiguous yet weirdly specific good person. A good student, a good daughter, a good God-follower, a good friend, a good whatever-you-fill-in-the-space. The approach that everyone's going for is: "Well, looks like your life is pretty much a cleared piece of land, so why not build it up the way everyone around you wants you to?!" Sure thang! That's a pretty damn awesome plan, collective mind of the peoples!
I had mentioned in a previous post that my attempts to not get in the way previously prevented me from ever breaking rules or rebelling against authority even in my oh-so-vulnerable teenage years. But goodness gracious! It looks like now, at 21, I'm starting to think to hell with everyone!
Okay, okay. Not that drastically. But I'm getting more and more convinced that as long as I'm not actively trying to hurt someone else, I shouldn't worry too much about what people will make out of my life's decisions. Sure, I may do things I regret later, but it's those things that I might remember when I'm old and gray and think: "Man, I used my stupid young person privilege well!"
One of these stupid things is staying up writing till 3:15 on a school night. Oh well.
Periods like the one I'm going through are easily dismissed as "transitional;" something that won't last and probably is leading up to something better. But I have to wonder:
Is it real what we, human people, tell ourselves whenever things get too much to handle or life spurs out of control, that "everything will be alright eventually?" Is it not some random things happening to each of us, the bad and the good? If we tally the good and the bad in each of our lives, are they supposed to magically level off?
Self-pity is pathetic, but it's kind of comforting to know that you sympathize with your own self. I mean, right now as I'm feeling in the way of so many lives, so many happinesses, so much going right for people I care about (including my own self), I kind of like the fact that I'm not hating myself for it.
The way I see it, life also is getting in the way of me being a normally functioning human being. I was not made for waking up at 6:15, toiling my way through life without relishing in the sweet taste of meaningful connection with other human beings. The fakery of smiles and giggles to strangers you work or study with, who think they know you because they know your first name is draining. The weeks spent without good company, with no rush or excitement at the prospect of doing something or seeing someone you love is painful.
Monotony is painful. Loss of passion and purpose is painful. Boredom is deadly.
So I ask for help, and what I get is a concoction of tried and tested formulas of how to be a normal person. How to get your rough ends rounded enough to fit in the nice cookie cutter shape of the ambiguous yet weirdly specific good person. A good student, a good daughter, a good God-follower, a good friend, a good whatever-you-fill-in-the-space. The approach that everyone's going for is: "Well, looks like your life is pretty much a cleared piece of land, so why not build it up the way everyone around you wants you to?!" Sure thang! That's a pretty damn awesome plan, collective mind of the peoples!
I had mentioned in a previous post that my attempts to not get in the way previously prevented me from ever breaking rules or rebelling against authority even in my oh-so-vulnerable teenage years. But goodness gracious! It looks like now, at 21, I'm starting to think to hell with everyone!
Okay, okay. Not that drastically. But I'm getting more and more convinced that as long as I'm not actively trying to hurt someone else, I shouldn't worry too much about what people will make out of my life's decisions. Sure, I may do things I regret later, but it's those things that I might remember when I'm old and gray and think: "Man, I used my stupid young person privilege well!"
One of these stupid things is staying up writing till 3:15 on a school night. Oh well.
You are not in the way, or a nuisance. "As long as we love one another, God will live in us and his love will be complete in us." Amen!
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