Sometimes I have my life together and everything completely figured out but more often than not —emphasis on the ‘more often’— I’m a complete mess, in the process of recreating myself. I get so caught up in the routine of every day life —I will seriously slap anyone who mentions deadlines or bills to me one more time— that I actually forget to live. Too often I find myself living inside my own head, trying to figure out my goals & ambitions & my life’s purpose and how I will plan the next 15 years of my life. It feels like a massive race to meet society’s demands. I say, fuck that. Since the beginning of the new year, my mindset has shifted to a completely new level. Lately, I find myself repeating the phrase, “life is merely what we make of it ourselves” over and over again.
Because, plot twist: nobody ever figures out what life is about.
(Also, don’t grow up: it’s a trap) I know, right. Shocking. I can’t believe it took me 23 beautiful years on this planet to figure that one out. Even more shocking: I never craved routine in the first place, a life so well-planned out that I can see my whole future in front of me like a roadmap taking me to one sole destination. And I know this sounds weird coming from an individual who craves certainty and tries to eschew all the anxious parts of life. But what scares me more than my own anxiety, is that we only get a few short moments to walk the earth and experience all of it. I find incredible peace in the thought that next year I could be living in an entire different part of the world, calling people who are now still strangers my friends. I find it comforting to know that tomorrow, I can choose a whole different life for myself; reinventing my soul and identity as I go along. I might be overflowing with crazy ideas; wanting to move to Bali one minute, and planning a political career and world domination the next. But really, magic happens wherever you haven’t been before. I want more of my life to be unexpected, to let experiences and people and places inspire my next move. To not be bound or defined by one person, or one ‘dream job’. I want my whole life to feel like a dream.
Because what if we got to invent ourselves every day anew? What if we asked ourselves every morning, “Who do I want to be today?” What if we would let our lives be led by life itself? Have you noticed that, experiences that come the most unexpectedly, are usually the most wonderful? Last year, the moments I felt happiest,
were the ones unplanned. I took some last-minute trips to Barcelona by myself where the encounters with strangers were the most enriching part of my trip; wandering the streets, discovering new corners of the city, talking about life’s vicissitudes. It’s those tiny unexpected experiences and encounters that make me forget about society’s pressure to mold us into a set figure that obeys rules and pays bills and follows a strict routine as to not fall off the normality-wagon. And frankly, I wouldn’t have anything to write about without all the unexpectedness of life —that admittedly, also sometimes makes me want to bang my head against a wall. I want to look back on life with a scrapbook filled with paper hearts cut out of the universe, with words flowing as easily as passport stamps and random adventures.
‘Home’ is such a familiar, and yet foreign concept at the same time. Most of us don’t question what they define as ‘home’, referring to the place they grew up in or the place they are growing into now as an adult. I call neither of those places home, as I want the entire world to feel like a place I belong. Rather, I want to find a home in myself. Sitting down on random pavements and still feel a roof above my head. Belonging everywhere and nowhere at once; building a house within freedom. I want to wake up to an endlessly changing horizon of experiences and people.
I not so much want to choose what happens to me, I want to allow myself the freedom for the world to shove whatever’s next
onto my path. I want to welcome it with open arms and let life flow through me, creating little messes and beautiful accidents everywhere I go.
I want to release the reigns and sit back while my life develops in front of my eyes, following whatever I naturally gravitate towards. I want to believe that I’ll find my place in the world by traveling, and meeting so many places. That I’ll find my home on a quiet corner of a bustling city, and I’ll know: This is where I belong. I want to believe that I’ll find my true purpose in this world, by allowing to take on whatever crosses my path and to be open to any suggestions the world will send my way. I want to take the time to discover every part and every bone and every thought of my delicate body. I want to believe that I’ll find love on a beach in Barcelona, while I’m reading a novel with a glass of red wine and bliss on the side. Unexpectedly. He’ll look at me and his heart will sink in the sand, just like mine will when he speaks his first words to me; slowly making a soft home out of each other.
I want to go out there and let life happen to me. I want to remain fragile as I blossom into myself; feminine, yet powerful. I want to exist as often as I can, in as many forms as I can.
We are only a moment.
A soft, unexpected mess.