My Children Are Going to Be So Well-Adjusted!

The beauty of becoming an adult is coming to realize that a great deal of what you learned growing up was complete and utter crap. True, it’s a bit frightening when this folder of Life’s Expectations and Supposed Truths that you’ve eagerly built up over the years becomes worthless - the way paper slowly deteriorates as it becomes saturated with water – but it can also be a bit freeing. There is some sad pleasure in it, and it makes me want to laugh, but it’s the kind of laugh you laugh when you’re really torn up about something and you just cant think of anything else to do. And, if you laugh long enough, you just might forget what it was that made you laugh to begin with.

When you think about it, future generations of adults would be a lot less fucked up if they weren’t brought up with all these expectations of what adulthood would be like, don’t you think? They’d have a great deal more time to spend actually living, instead of feeling sorry for themselves when their lives didn’t become the stuff of fairy tales.

Note to self: when you have children, tell them to prepare for a life of mediocrity. That way, if things work out better than that (which they probably won’t), they’ll be pleasantly surprised. And you might even get a Thank You out of it.

Lifestyle Polygamy

I’m not sure whether I believe in fate, or destiny, or whatever you want to call it. Sometimes, with the way things take shape, it’s difficult to believe that life is anything but predestined – like some complicated course our brain follows, unbeknownst to our consciousness. Still, though, there are always times that I’m made aware of how markedly different my life could have been had I made this particular decision or that.

And what about “callings?” Do I believe in those? That’s a tough one, too. I think that I grew up assuming I’d find mine, because it was always some highly idealized thing, almost an expectation that I should one day realize my purpose for being here. But, after awhile I began to think that that was a load of bullshit that the supposedly older, wiser population spewed forth because that’s what their parents did with them. We don’t really have callings, just like we don’t ever meet Prince Charming - who also happens to be ridiculously good-looking, wealthy, and all that – we don’t have the 2.5 kids and then reside oh-so-happily with them in the suburbs, yet we still hear these tales over and over again.

So, yeah, that’s what I came to think, after awhile. But, where am I now? I do feel as though I’m being pulled in a particular direction, though its vastly different than the one I thought five or six years ago I’d be headed. So is it that I’ve just come to realize my niche, or is it that this path will be a means to yet another end?

Perhaps more accurate is that we have multiple fates, just as we have multiple Prince Charmings. There is no one path we should take, no one career, no one perfect mate. There are likely several of each, and what we have to decide is what we’re willing to live with, to sacrifice, in order to make each one a reality in our lives. Right now, I see two vastly different lives stretching out before me and I have no fucking clue which one I’m going to opt for, because I want both.

In some ways, I wish I were obligated by destiny, because the element of choice would be removed and if things didn’t work out as I’d hoped, I’d have fate to blame instead of myself.

Tongue-tied

Language is an incredible medium of expression. When in the proper hands it can be so powerful, so moving...and when I am faced with such expertly crafted prose or speech - though I am awed and flooded with emotion - I cannot but feel inadequate. For, I've not mastered this medium of communication - or any, to be fair - and it saddens me. I cannot be alone in this; there are worlds without number, existing only in the minds of their keepers, for our expression can never properly illustrate their depths. I long for the talent to describe in vivid and comprehensive terms the way my skin feels when I am walking through the city on a brisk morning, or the way the narrowness of european streets and the amazing variety of shops lining them, create such an intimate feel for those passing through.

These descriptions are somehow beyond me. I am dissatisfied with my own recollections, when it is that I write or speak of them. I notice it especially now, since I have been travelling. Seeing so many unbelievable things and trying to find some way to relay to my family and friends, but constantly falling short. I want them to be able to see what I have had the pleasure to see but the only way for them to cultivate some image is if I can somehow find the words...