I have spent so much time (and lost a lot of sleep) lately trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. Law school? A Masters degree? Annapolis? Indianapolis? Chicago? Marketing? Sales? Writing?.... Oyyy. It makes my head spin.
I have always marveled at people who are able to say "this is exactly what I want to do..." The people who know exactly what they want and follow a very specific set of steps that get them there. Exhibit A: Kim, my oldest friend. Since we were freshmen in high school (and probably before that) she was determined to get her degree and move to California. Low and behold, eight years later, she graduated and shipped out to San Diego and never looked back.
Me? I can't even choose an outfit without trying on half of my closet. So trying to figure out what city I'm supposed to live in and what career path I'm supposed to be making my way down has been nothing short of a nightmare. On the one hand, I want to move to a new city and experience that intoxicating feeling of possibility that comes with starting from scratch. But I also want to make my way back home and eventually raise a family in a place like this. I kept thinking... what if one of those decisions affects the other and I never make it there? Or back?
I have said time and time again, "I just need someone to tell me what I'm supposed to do." Someone to tell me where to go and what to do and somehow assure me that my life is going to all fall into place. But as my mom so aptly put it, where's the fun in that?
Still... when the opportunity came for me to commit to this job for two years? I nearly passed out. (Disclaimer: I haven't stayed in the same place for more than a year and a half since I was 18 years old.) While I'm not exactly a free spirit, I am a fan of new places and tend to drop everything when a new city calls my name. But while in D.C. and Annapolis last week, I found myself thinking about my life in terms of more than just a couple hundred days. Two years? Two years is 730 days, 8 seasons and only a handful of holidays. Two years is nothing.
So the bottom line? There is no such thing as a right decision. There are no wrong decisions. (When it comes things like this at least...) Life is made up of a bunch of choices and you just have to pick one and keep your fingers crossed that it's going to get you to where you're supposed to go.
It's like John Lennon said:
Focusing on the future is necessary (to an extent). But too much looking to tomorrow does nothing but keep you from experiencing right now... and without being present every single day, your plans don't stand a chance.
I have always marveled at people who are able to say "this is exactly what I want to do..." The people who know exactly what they want and follow a very specific set of steps that get them there. Exhibit A: Kim, my oldest friend. Since we were freshmen in high school (and probably before that) she was determined to get her degree and move to California. Low and behold, eight years later, she graduated and shipped out to San Diego and never looked back.
Me? I can't even choose an outfit without trying on half of my closet. So trying to figure out what city I'm supposed to live in and what career path I'm supposed to be making my way down has been nothing short of a nightmare. On the one hand, I want to move to a new city and experience that intoxicating feeling of possibility that comes with starting from scratch. But I also want to make my way back home and eventually raise a family in a place like this. I kept thinking... what if one of those decisions affects the other and I never make it there? Or back?
I have said time and time again, "I just need someone to tell me what I'm supposed to do." Someone to tell me where to go and what to do and somehow assure me that my life is going to all fall into place. But as my mom so aptly put it, where's the fun in that?
Still... when the opportunity came for me to commit to this job for two years? I nearly passed out. (Disclaimer: I haven't stayed in the same place for more than a year and a half since I was 18 years old.) While I'm not exactly a free spirit, I am a fan of new places and tend to drop everything when a new city calls my name. But while in D.C. and Annapolis last week, I found myself thinking about my life in terms of more than just a couple hundred days. Two years? Two years is 730 days, 8 seasons and only a handful of holidays. Two years is nothing.
So the bottom line? There is no such thing as a right decision. There are no wrong decisions. (When it comes things like this at least...) Life is made up of a bunch of choices and you just have to pick one and keep your fingers crossed that it's going to get you to where you're supposed to go.
It's like John Lennon said:
"Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."
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