i had a little better indication of where i will be in say, five years.
five years ago, august 2004, i was a few weeks from starting my mfa program at slc.
and now look how much has/hasn't happened since then.
i can't say that i've planned for this life that is unfolding in real time.
i'm no good with the "planning" of futures*. my plans, what little i have planned, has never even come close. i planned to move to atlanta after college. i planned to go to west africa with the peace corps. i planned to have a stable job and stay long enough to pay all my bills on time and have something left over to save and maybe think about buying some property. or something. maybe i didn't plan for that, but i've always liked the idea.
my life is categorically incapable of being planned out. maybe i prefer it that way, maybe it's more problematic than necessary.
i planned to [decide to] stop loving this boy. now i plan to [decide to] love him forever. (come what may. or what may never come.)
some days i wonder what is really going on in this reality of mine. like, this is not reality, is it? is this the way i'm supposed to be living? dreaming? pining? spinning? in all directions, though somewhat forward, somewhat diagonal, somewhat circular, somewhat erratic, having the time of my life?
i read memoirs and autobiographies of very successful creative people who had very questionable starts, somewhat akin to my own, and i take comfort in the fact that perhaps i really am leading the life i was born to lead. (not that i'm really questioning it. i've tried the other reality and the quixote in me desired to roam free.)
my name means LIFE. i'm living life. i could be doing a better job at it, but i'm LIVING it in full color, with my nerves turned outward so that i FEEL what i'm living. almost too intensely, i'm feeling this life, here.
i'm not afraid to say what i want. i want to spend the rest of my life with the man that i prefer to love. i want to publish many things. i want to sing while i play the piano. i want to beat the djembe in rhythm. i want to see the other six continents. i want a house with a veranda where i can hang windchimes and a hammock. i want to learn a few more languages. i want to swim in the ocean exercising my mermaid skills a little more often and i want to ride a motorcycle. that's all i want.
in my first thirty years, i've come close to starting most of those things. like, i kinda get to do that stuff. i kinda spend my time with the man i love, in random ways and at random times, and have been since the day we met, more or less (sometimes less than more). i write many things, i just need to get the publishing part underway. though i wouldn't practice my piano lessons as a child and therefore was made to stop taking lessons, there are many pianos around in my current lifestyle and sometimes i get to sit down with a friend and show them how well i can play the scales. i sing now more than i ever have in life, and absolutely love it, though i wish i'd further developed the talent as a child/youth. percussionist friends let me play their congas/djembes whenever i like, even though i'm often out of rhythm. or should i say unpracticed rhythm that just needs a little refinement. i've not been to any other continents yet, but i know people from all over the world and plan for my 30s (through the rest of my functional life) to be my globetrotting years. i have no idea when i'll have a house with a veranda, or where in the world that will be... but i have windchimes in my apartment and plan to get more. rosetta stone is teaching me how to say "the boy is on top of the little airplane" in twelve different languages. i'm slowly uncovering the ocean shores near the city and hear the Jersey shore would make me very content, speaking from the mermaid perspective. and, as soon as i have an extra $300 to put toward enrolling in a Motorcycle Safety Class (and the accoutrement needed to ensure safety), i to will hold a coveted M-endorsement.
So. i mean..... i'm doing alright i suppose, at the end of the day. you can only live one day at a time. even if you plan the next five years. and if you don't plan them, you still will only live one day at a time. so i'm doing alright.
things i know for sure:
if, for whatever reason, i am to leave here, be called away from this existence as we know it, sometime sooner than anyone ever thought, then know that my life has been full of beauty and love and whimsy and grace and splendor (which has greatly outweighed the melancholy and struggle and disappointment and uncertainty--even when it seems the scales are even). and that i thank God right now for allowing me to recognize it at this moment. because i will thank him face to face one day as well, but i'd like this record to reflect that whatever happens, i've had a good life.
*though i maintain the non-planning nature in which i exist, i'd like to point out that perhaps being a complete visionary trumps being a planner... to some degree, anyway.