General Blog, writing

not enough life times

The things I want to do require too many life times. How does anyone pick the right path for the one life we get? If it’s a small decision, sure, no problem, just change course. But like a big one, like starting a business, or moving abroad, or picking a hobby to focus on, or buying a van, or having kids how does anyone make a decision? Even more so how do you make a decision when choosing that path means that the other options are no longer available?

I feel like there’s this path that I’m supposed to be taking, college, job, marriage, kids, and it feels like the wrong path. I’ll step on it occasionally, college jobs, possibly marriage, but I can never really walk more than a few steps before something pulls me off.

Maybe it’s more of a private function, a VIP invite only party that everyone else got invited to except me. And everyone is saying that it’s such a great party and I absolutely need to come and join but the men at the door won’t let me through. I don’t have an invite and no one understands why I can’t get in.

Sometimes I can sneak, through a back door, and for a moment I get what everyone is talking about. Then I’m thrown out. Or sometimes I can look through a window and understand why people are saying it’s such a great party, but I can’t feel, I can’t enjoy the drinks or conversations with them. All I can do is look.

It seems like everyone at the party has these great career jobs and stable incomes and retirement plans and dental. They have families and couldn’t wait to have kids and couldn’t wait to be parents and the lifetime that goes with it. Everyone is settled down, solid foundations are laid, long term homes to make lives in. Backyards to watch kids grow up in, living rooms to just watch TV in.

And when I am able to sneak in, I want those things too, how ever brief it is. Part of me can see myself in a career job, working all the time with a few days off and a vacation here and there. Part of me can see raising a kid and having a family and settling down.

And then the men at the door find me and throw me out. And I feel like I’m supposed to want those things and want to want those things, but don’t know how. Wanting to want something that you don’t really want is hard.

I’m not sure why I want more, why I can’t want what everyone else seems to want. I’m not sure why my Kool-Aid wasn’t spiked and everyone else’s was. To so many people I am living the absolute dream. I have an amazing boyfriend who is my best friend and has literally seen me at my worst, or at least my most cry-y. I have my own house, I have a car, a job I actually like, the world’s best dog, and a hummingbird just landed on my front deck. And I do love it, I love having my own space, having some stability in my life, some financial stability.

I do love so many parts of my life, but something in me wants more.

I like having house plants and a garden and a deck with strings of lights and chickens. I like having a lawn and a porch and a sense of community in one place. I like having friends over for a glass (or bottle) of wine, I like baking and cooking and knowing what grocery store has the best stuff.

I like adventures in the little things. I like having to chase dogs who are chasing loose chickens. I like the little excitement that mundane things like that brings, a thrill of watching two dogs tear after a terrified chicken who won’t let us catch her either. I like seeing a hummingbird come to the feeder and the hum its tiny little wings make as it hovers unsure if it’s safe to land.

I like the way the sun filters through the leaves, the way the baby grass is so bright green, the way the chickens wait for me to feed them. I like when I come home my dog is excited to see me, my boyfriend is excited to see me. I like the way my house feels, I like that it’s cozy and inviting and welcoming and unique.

I like making waffles on the weekends and whipped cream and drinking coffee on the deck. I like the lazy days of Netflix and cereal. I like yard work. I like quiet meals outside, or mornings with hot coffee. I love the way Dan makes me smile, the way he plays with my hair. I love when he makes dinner or breakfast and folds laundry.

Sometimes I like the routine, sometimes I like knowing what the day is going to bring. Sometimes I like the going to work, the coming home. Sometimes I like knowing that when I get home I don’t have to do anything else.

But sometimes I miss the big adventures. Sometimes I want more than just going to work and coming home. Most of the time I feel like I should be doing more than just coming home and doing nothing. Sometimes I don’t want to fold laundry, sometimes I don’t want to put dishes away or clean the kitchen. But if I don’t, I’m not sure it will get done.

Sometimes I don’t want there to be laundry to do. Or dishes to wash. Or bills to pay. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve been thrown into this life that I’m expected to love and sometimes I feel that I’m so horrible and wrong for not loving every minute of everything that’s been given to me.

If there was a magic switch to change my thinking, I would flip it so fast. If there was something that made me want to settle down, get a solid 9 to 5, plan my retirement, have a family, have kids, it would be done already. It would be easier on everyone. Everyone would be happier. My parents would be happier that I have a job with benefits and retirement plans, and even dental. My boyfriend would be happier because I would want to have kids. His mom would be happier, my grandparents would be happier.

If I could just be normal, if I could just want the things that everyone else seems to want, if I could just get into this party, life would be easier.

Part of me wants to follow the norm, most of me knows that I would not be happy. That I would always be searching for more. And I want to be happy, I want to be happy in the one life I get and enjoy the day to day things. But I want more too. I don’t want to settle, I don’t want to be satisfied with a regular life.

I want access to this party everyone else is at and have the choice to stay or leave. I want more lifetimes. I want decisions to come easy.

1 thought on “not enough life times”

  1. I get what you mean. I mean, in general life is good, you know. And then you look at other people’s lives and you begin to wonder if you’re doing enough.

    I mean, I love my work. I love being a dentist and the passion is real, but the work can still be tiring. I began my life as a Christian missionary in 2016, and when I did, I began to feel the weight of my purpose. That’s when I finally understood what people meant about finding your purpose–cus I still have no proper clue about my life, but there’s one thing I am certain of, I was meant to serve.

    Like

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