I am the type of person who learns about life’s realities, by making fast choices and impulse decisions. I follow my gut instincts, follow my own heart, and do things according to my own schedule, wants, needs, and desires.
My life is a little insane, but I guess that’s what makes it worth living. It’s the pure madness of it all, that usually gives me something to write about (a characteristic which I have a love/hate relationship with).
This weekend didn’t veer far from my path of endless adventures. I drove for 3 hours with the ugly, fluorescent “Check Engine” light haunting me from my dashboard, I spent 20 minutes with a Tarot Card reader who forecasted the next 6 months of my life. My car then broke down pretty much in the middle of nowhere, I spent the night in a dingy hotel, and my car is potentially facing it’s death.
Sitting in my broken car waiting for a tow truck, and hoping that the semi-trucks speeding past me wouldn’t blow me off the road, I momentarily wished I could switch lives with someone. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to experience an ‘ordinary’ life… where simple things happened and each day just came and went.
It sounded relaxing; the thought of living without unexpected worry seemed intriguing…
but I quickly caught myself. How boring would a simple, ‘ordinary’ life be? What would I ever write about? And what stories would I share with (other people’s) grandchildren when I’m stuck in a rocking chair at the age of 103?
Sure – my life is so incredibly far from perfect. Most times, it’s agonizing, frustrating, stressful and insane. But why not embrace it? I can’t change it, so I’ve gotta’ make the best of it.
I’m going to love my life – the beautiful, chaotic mess it is.
