Happily 'Til the Next One

“When you tell [grown-ups] that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, ‘What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?’ Instead, they demand: ‘How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?’ Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him… you might say to them: ‘The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that he exists.’ And what good would it do to tell them that? They would shrug their shoulders, and treat you like a child. But if you said to them: ‘The planet he came from is Asteroid B-612,’ then they would be convinced, and leave you in peace from their questions.”  --Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

 I went for coffee with Kate yesterday, and we realized we were both having similar fears and doubts about what we should do with ourselves.  We talked about our attempts at making the "right" choices in our lives, and how when you're afraid of making the wrong choice, it's generally due to the belief that there is a right one - that just around the corner, there will be a decision that will set off the grand chain of events that is your real life, and it will define who you become.  Do I want to be a teacher or a writer?  Speak Polish or Spanish?  A traveler or a mother?  And poof!  That's what you are.  But if you make the wrong choice, then you are (forever) the wrong thing. 

 But that's not the way it works, is it?  There is no final decision, the one that sets everything up.  One choice flows into another, and another, and another.  The most you can say, really, is that making a decision  is better than just letting things happen to you.  And that you really can't make more than one major choice at a time, make some master plan, and expect a good result.  Because the world you create with your first decision will change how you look at the second.  But despite all the pressure, does it somehow bring us comfort to believe that this majestic moment, this imposing decision, is out there, waiting for us?  That once we get it out of the way, we'll be all sorted out?  We'll know what we are?  Or to put it another way: Are we that ludicrous grown-up in our own lives who insists on knowing only the most inessential facts about ourselves? 

 For all I might say about not letting other people judge me, it has still been me, telling myself that I'm trying to become something that causes me most of my heartache when I try to slap some kind of label on myself and figure myself out.  Because even if I am a teacher, or a mother, or a traveler, what else does that say about me?  Does it change what my voice sounds like or what games I love best?  Or the fact that my best friend can still make me laugh so hard I snort?  Of course not.  Things change when you make any decision, but things change every day anyway.  A decision doesn't put me in a box where I have to be like all the other teachers, mothers, wives, single women or travelers in the world.  

Anyway, I guess my point is this: maybe it's not so comforting to think that I'll never quite be properly figured out, but it's more realistic and more forgiving.  And frankly, it feels kind of good.  I'm free to do whatever I want - I don't have to think about what it will make me, besides happier, or wiser, or at the very least, someone with a good story to tell.