Sunday, August 26, 2012


We just completed the last day of summer camp. We spent ten hours cleaning, vacuuming, washing, and scrubbing down every inch of camp and finally, it's over. Almost simultaneous to completing the last task on today's list, came the feeling, "Holy crap! Now what are we going to do?"

This moment I've been waiting for for most of my life is here. And I'm terrified of it.

I'm done with school.
I'm married. 
We've completed our summer obligations. 
This is the time where I should do all of those fun, crazy, interesting, grown-up things I've been waiting to do. And instead of being excited, I'm inundated with exhaustion and grief.

Shouldn't now be the time when I finally learn to play guitar?
Shouldn't I start thrifting for real? Instead of blaming it on a lack of time?
Shouldn't I get yoga certified?
Pursue personal training?
Figure out some sort of career path?
Isn't this the moment where I have more time to read? And so, I actually do?
Will I play city league sports?
Will I finally have my garden?
A compost pile?
Home-made clothing?
Gluten-free baking?
This seems like the time when I'd get serious about writing.
And music.
And meditation.
And canning.
And being eternally happy.

But all I want to do is catch my breath.
Waste time on Pinterest.
Get to know Jeremy again.

And this worries me. Have all my lofty ambitions during the years I was "caged" in school dissipated once the opportunity actually arrived? Was I all talk? Will I actually do the things I said I wanted to do? Do I even have what it takes to be that person? Am I simply dissatisfied with whatever stage I'm at and forever longing for a different one?

I don't need to cross off these items like a checklist. Whether or not I ever have a compost pile is unimportant. Certainly some things might've sounded intriguing five years ago and don't anymore. But I suppose I'm attuned--for possibly the first time--to a new rhythm. 

A rhythm that's disjointed and unpredictable. 
One that doesn't follow the melody I had in mind (or even sound good half the time).
One that means we are homeless, jobless, and suddenly short on money. 
One that probably can't afford half of what's on that list. 
One that doesn't look nearly as enchanting and sweet as the movies make it out to be. 

And so, instead of that list, I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning and lay in bed. Then brush my teeth. And enjoy one last day at camp. No work. Just play. 

And the next day, I'm going to get in the car with my husband and mosey around Idaho and Utah. Maybe we'll camp. Maybe we'll get a flat tire. Maybe we'll see the most beautiful sunset of our lives. 

But either way, all I have to do is show up. 
Put the list aside.
Be in this moment. 


Anthony said...

"Just loosen up and move..." to quote you but also because I think it's the answer to what I have been praying for. I'm am praying for you two.