Jan 2014
Oftentimes I find myself having these random bubble bursts of thoughts-I want to learn Sanskrit…..what? Where does that even come from? Or Hey! Learning to sew would be neat. Or you know, I could really benefit from reading the newspaper.
And the thing that I struggle to understand is that when I have thoughts like this, is this an attempt to discover more of me or is this me trying to force an idea onto myself that isn’t actually me, but what I think I would like to be...
Think about it. If you came out of the womb and you had a catalogue and could then choose carefully categorized qualities in yourself, what would you choose? Sometimes it feels like then it would be easier then having to try and discover it for yourself. And I could go on about how no, it’s great that we have to go through this struggle to find it and I’ve learned all these things from my journey, but unfortunately, that is not this poem.
No one actually knows who they are completely ever. That’s a neverending journey according to...well everyone. But why do we fight so hard to find it?
If someone paid me to try one new thing each day, I would take them up on that opportunity but if you think at the end of it all, I’d tell you what I learned about myself, then you can have your money back because I’m not interested.
Not every experience is a learning experience and not every adventure has to mean something. I like rock climbing. I like blueberries and strawberries and raspberries. I take long car rides just because I can, thank you Hybrid vehicles. But I am not a rock climber or a farm girl or a lover of cars. I know that I am a person who is going day to day doing things that I like to do. So I may pick up my ukulele this day and I may never pick it up again for another year, but I certainly won’t be selling it because of that. I own more books than I can account for and haven’t read more than 30% of them, but I hate having to take books to the used book store and I love buying more. And so what does that make me?
I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because that is not this poem.
And the thing that I struggle to understand is that when I have thoughts like this, is this an attempt to discover more of me or is this me trying to force an idea onto myself that isn’t actually me, but what I think I would like to be...
Think about it. If you came out of the womb and you had a catalogue and could then choose carefully categorized qualities in yourself, what would you choose? Sometimes it feels like then it would be easier then having to try and discover it for yourself. And I could go on about how no, it’s great that we have to go through this struggle to find it and I’ve learned all these things from my journey, but unfortunately, that is not this poem.
No one actually knows who they are completely ever. That’s a neverending journey according to...well everyone. But why do we fight so hard to find it?
If someone paid me to try one new thing each day, I would take them up on that opportunity but if you think at the end of it all, I’d tell you what I learned about myself, then you can have your money back because I’m not interested.
Not every experience is a learning experience and not every adventure has to mean something. I like rock climbing. I like blueberries and strawberries and raspberries. I take long car rides just because I can, thank you Hybrid vehicles. But I am not a rock climber or a farm girl or a lover of cars. I know that I am a person who is going day to day doing things that I like to do. So I may pick up my ukulele this day and I may never pick it up again for another year, but I certainly won’t be selling it because of that. I own more books than I can account for and haven’t read more than 30% of them, but I hate having to take books to the used book store and I love buying more. And so what does that make me?
I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because that is not this poem.
