In some ways I feel like I've always been "older" than my peers or just other folks in general. But in many ways it seems like I may never catch up to the place where even my youngest sister has already reached. It's a strange space to occupy: an old soul still doused with childlike wonderment. I've made it my goal to live my life like I'm already an old woman who's received one wish--to be young again. What would I do if I had already lived my life and was looking back on it?
Always eat dessert, have lots of sex, and floss, regularly.
It's hard to know what I'll regret when it's all said an done. Figuring that by the time I am certifiably "old" my body will have deteriorated to the point of no return leaving me plenty of time to lay around, while my physical being dissolves, to think about all of this. Lord knows I'll be there sooner than I think. I can't believe 2010 is more than half over already. But, what I imagine I'll think back on will be moments of beauty and pain. The exhilaration of my first piano recital, or singing the national anthem at the big high school basketball game. The heady smell of pine trees and gentle rustle of the wind through their needles high above my head while Mike Ozmond was giving me my first kiss. Disappointments and broken hearts. Stitches, bruised ribs, and slight concussions. Watching the sunset glint off the glass fronts of the graves built into the hillsides of Spain while on a bus to Barcelona, and watching airplanes crumple the sides of buildings on TV while getting ready for my first day of massage therapy school. What I can't imagine I'll regret is kissing lots of boys, staying up late on school nights, spending money I didn't really have to go to Hawaii or New York City or make a big deal out of a friend's birthday. I don't know if I'll regret not having kids or not getting married because I don't know that those things aren't still to come.
Expectations are tricky little beasts. For a creative mind, the building up of expectations can be devastating. The ability to create a lavish fantasy future is crushing in it's minutest detail. But is it cowardice to invent an impossible world that's all happy endings and justice for the evil doers? Or is it saintly to mold these ideals into stories for others to glean hope? Heroes that make mistakes are much more real than those who claim invincibility. Having integrity and treating people with respect, taking responsibility over your own actions--how sad that we live in a reality where those are heroic traits and not simply the status quo.
So as I continue to build the story of my life, I'll do my best to be the hero of my own tale. All the while remembering that someday I will come to the end of it. And who doesn't want their life to be like the last book in a series so great it hurts to read the last page because it means the story's over?
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