“You’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t, So you might as well just do whatever you want. So, make lots of noise, kiss lots of boys, Or kiss lots of girls, if that’s something you’re into. When the straightened arrow gets a little too straight, Roll up a joint, or don’t. Just follow your arrow wherever it points, yeah. Follow your arrow wherever it points.” Kacey Musgraves
There’s a significant transition brewing on the horizon, stemming from a decision I’ve been mulling for years. I can’t wait to finally take the first step. The countdown begins.
This is the last plan I hope to see to fruition for a good while. My whole life I’ve planned, strategized, organized thoughts into movement. Yet I haven’t reached any of the places I wanted to be. No matter how hard I’ve tried and how often I’ve prayed, I’m not in a position where I’ve found ease.
In college, I wasn’t afraid of striving for any and every wanton desire. I wanted to travel. I wanted to see the world. So I did it; I lived in Africa, I vacationed in Japan, I sightsaw around Russia, I ate fish and chips in Ireland, I swam the clearest waters in Mexico. I breathed in the fresh air of life: filled my lungs with an attitude of steel-tipped determination and a promise of success.
So why do I now find myself stifled by a banal air, choking on an unnamed insecurity, fearful that every inhale may be my last? When did I switch thoughts with a prosaic mind? There has to be more than this.
I want what is just around the river bend, even if it leads to rushing rapids and a jagged drop into the abyss.
I can see why this may cause concern for my friends. The idea of being reckless, unsteady is so unlike me. Still I fear the future if I remain so sure-footed.
Sometimes you have to be okay with jumping out of the boat without a life vest. If you know how to swim, you don’t need a flimsy contraption of polyethylene to keep you afloat. Your body is naturally buoyant. The experiences of your life have taught you how to tread water, letting the bodiless essence slip through your wide-spread grasp as the natural currant pushes you forward. All you need is the mental tenacity to say that no matter how deep the ocean, how wide the waves, you won’t drown.
On the narrowest window sill, I still know that no matter the slope, I will land on my feet. Every imbalance, every setback, taken in stride with a swish of my curious tail, in view that on the other side lays in wait a delicious pot of cream.
I’ve run out of lives living in D.C. I’ve run out of sunrises. I’ve run out of hope here. I’ve got to stop wishing on falling stars and imaging that I can live on stardust crumbs. I’ve lost count of astral twinkles that are supposed to hold the future’s pledge of prosperity.
It’s time to stop living in the fear of failure and just make something happen, anything happen really. Even a dollop of struggle and uncertainty would be a welcome change to this vapid monotony.
I’m better than commonplace. It’s time that I start living like I believe those words.
I have dreams; I have goals; I have desires hidden that I’ve yet to unlock. And I’ll never get the chance to find the secret quest leading to the buried treasure if I don’t open the game.
So lift your glasses with me oh you music makers! Let us cheer to the thrill of imagination. Trust in yourself, oh you dreamers of dreams. The reality you seek exists beyond your closed eyelids.