Have you ever listened to Van Morrison on your porch at night when no one else was around? If not, I think maybe you should. I haven't been on much of an inspiration spree around here. I've been finding myself grasping for topics around 8-10pm and then dreading writing anything that actually takes thought knowing how late it will keep me up. Last night I got to writing about costumes because I was stalking my own Facebook profile feeling pretty damn nostalgic about college. Which made me think about my college self versus my current self. A few differences come to mind.
I look pretty similar. I may pull out more gray hairs than I'd like now and I really should replace my jeans because there's definitely a hole in the butt pocket region and people are probably going to notice it soon, but they do still fit. Physically I feel just as capable as I did in college. I probably run more and perhaps more responsibly (read: not drunk running home from bars) now. My heart is certainly more calloused than my former self's but it's strong and I'm aware of its resiliency now. I'm just as sensitive as I've always been and I'm just as bad at doing laundry. I have more responsibilities now, I guess, but not really.
The biggest difference is the way I think about time. I'm living in the most exciting stage of my life since starting college right now. I thought it was just the shock of moving to a foreign land that was making me feel like I was dreaming, but it's been five months. Almost half a year that I've been living on the West coast. I've accomplished a lot: job, apartment, furniture, concerts, festivals, hikes and wonderful adventures, but it all seems to be going too fast. Remember that emotaling word? It's kind of like this never ending circle where I know I want to live in the present because time is going to go by regardless of whether I'm ready for it or think it's moving too quickly for me. And obsessing over it is just a waste of time anyway because it means I'm not present during that thought process. So then the obsessing over that wasted time starts and continues until I trip on the sidewalk and start bleeding everywhere.
This has been a constant struggle lately. I know everyone feels it to some extent. We're not psyched out of our minds about getting our driver's license, moving out of the house for the first time or turning 21, so we just want time to chill the eff out. But I'm getting to a point where I'm trying so hard to turn these thoughts off that I get irrationally angry at people at the water cooler who are all, "Man, where did September go?! Time is just flying by!" Yes, it is. Thanks for reminding me, d-bag.
I know there is so much to look forward to in life. I haven't even fallen in love with the one yet, or bawled my eyes out over that perfect ring, or danced with my dad at my reception, or told my mom that I'm pregnant or seen my baby's perfect little face. Shoot, I haven't even hit 1,000 blog followers yet.
I'm in no rush to get there, but I'm definitely stoked out of my mind for all of those things.
I guess I've some how tricked myself into thinking that if I obsess over making things last and worrying when they don't, that I'm not taking anything for granted. Maybe suffering a little makes me feel like it'll stick around a little longer. But I took everything for granted in college. Sure, it's gone now, but it would be either way, and now I get to look back at those so called care-free years (which were actually pretty stressful at times) and feel happy about the memories I made. The memories that weren't clouded by anxiety that was completely unfounded.
Maybe not taking something for granted just means enjoying it, appreciating it and loving it without considering how long you have with it.
I'm still young. I'm still having fun. I still have so much to look forward to. And there's no reason why I shouldn't just be okay with the way time works. I don't want to be that person that gets depressed about every birthday after 21. I want to celebrate life at every age and I want to stop caring that another month has passed because guess what? I lived that month. And lately I've been living them pretty well.
Wow, this post has been all over the place. This is what happens when I listen to Van Morrison on the porch. Thanks for reading, friends.