It's easy to forget who you are. To get carried away from the things that make you tick. Do you remember the scene in The Notebook when Allie realizes she doesn’t paint anymore? Okay, as I use this example I can see 93% of my friends shaking their heads and saying The Notebook is the cheesiest movie ever made. But, I'm a classic Romantic and can admit that I love Nicholas Sparks and Taylor Swift and bouquets of flowers. That scene gets me every. single. time. Over the years her life has become consumed with things that look right, good, glamorous, but she has forgotten the part of her life that she owned. In her teenage years—even in the midst of French, piano, and literature lessons, there was painting. And now, years later, the structure of life and the expectations of others have provided her with comfort and happiness and even fulfillment. But the wild thing in her, that needed color and a brush and (maybe a wild, rainy kiss with Ryan Gosling) was missing.
I can identify with that right now. It's so easy to let life glide by in the expected way. To find small comforts and happiness in my work, in the acquaintances around me. It is a good thing to be content. Gratefulness for the small things is a virtue I want to cultivate day to day. But what happens when comfort becomes my hiding place? When the wild thing in me that wants to write and needs color is cowering behind the simplicity of my day? What happens when what looks like gratefulness and a life well lived is a mask covering over those deep roaring desires that live in our bellies?
I don't want to be unsatisfied or despise the day of small things, I want to enjoy my life the way it is now. But I also want to be willing to ask myself the hard questions. Give myself the raw, truthful answers. What is it you really want? Are you living to your fullest? Where are you going? How will you get there? Is anything in your life a crutch?
I want to pick up my pen and pursue the life I’ve secretly hoped I'll just stumble upon. I want to take risks in ways that make the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I like the feel of the warm earth beneath my feet and don't take it for granted, but to learn to fly, to feel the clouds in my hair. I can't stop pursuing that.