The slogan for this season of Girls is
nowhere to grow but up and my heart is beating in tandem with its sentiment. It’s time. My dreams don’t have to die in order for me to grow up, but they need a red marker and a heavy edit (and that’s okay). Although I’ve never been one to give up on my dreams or tell others to, I’ve realized something insanely beautiful: the moment I began making decisions based on things that were actually happening in my life (and not what I hoped would happen), my world began to change. Once I decided that it’s OKAY to not work in publishing or live downtown, my life chose a different course, one that excites me, one that I’m happy about. Writing will always be waiting for me, this blog will always be mine, but maybe, just maybe they aren’t meant to be on the top of my priority list. Maybe my heart and my head are finally ready for something new to take top-shelf.
I feel like my head is on straight since I turned twenty. All those years of questioning myself, doubting myself, and being afraid have suddenly morphed into something more welcoming. Understanding is it? I’m not sure but I am seeing my priorities clearly and they’re lined up in a way that suits my life, my goals, and my relationship not the way that society or tradition dictates.
Mid-twenties have never felt so good.
From Flowers For website
Can you recall the exact moment you saw a flower petal fall? I do. I was sitting at the dining room table, writing away as the sun spilled onto my page. I heard it before I saw it, a tiny crack that demanded my peripheries to pay attention. It fell with a slow determined grace, as if it chose that moment to fall. By the time I turned my head, it was already bathing beautifully in the sunlight. As I looked at it I was thankful for the gentle reminder that there is a certain elegance to falling (or failing). For it creates vast opportunities for growth, change, and thoughts anew.
“What is so marvelous about living today is that it is possible to extend, like a flower, spreading petals in all directions.”
— Carolyn Kizer
One of the best pieces of advice (or scorn) my mother ever said to me was “You can’t be a hermit all your life, Vanessa!” To which I always replied by going to my room, closing the door, reading a book, and not coming down until dinner. I disliked people, I hated how no one listened to me, I avoided going outside simply because I hated smelling like fresh air, I hated the beach simply because the sand made me itch, and I was the kind of kid who would read a book inside on the couch instead of outside at the cottage with my family. Why? Well, I was a shy kid, the kind of kid who kept quiet, the kind of kid who felt uncomfortable whenever I left the house, whenever I was in a big crowd.
I’m either growing up, changing, or taking my mom’s advice and putting it to good use (probably a little bit of all three). Although there is still no greater comfort to me than staying home, I find myself wanting to get outside, wanting to take a walk on my lunch, wanting to explore, wanting to be surrounded by people. I pay attention to things like flowers blooming, I sit outside and read just to be in the company of my parents when they’re hanging out in the backyard, I go nuts when my sister talks about the baby growing inside her (I freak out every time she gets bigger), I make an effort to be home when we have company. I’m noticing there’s so much LIFE outside, so much LIVING going on, so many MOMENTS to be apart of. Sounds a little bizarre that I’m just seeing all of this now, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, when I need to be left alone, I am. When I need to concentrate or just NOT be social, everyone leaves me be, but I feel as though I’m finally starting to live. I’m finally starting to see the need for a balance between all of the wonderful books and stories that I read, and the one life that I’m living.
‘Cause that’s just it, you’re only given one life and it’s YOUR fault if you’re not enjoying it, living it, breathing it.