to be washed ashore —

a paradigm; the naivety of dreaming, the pessimism of not.

Should we dare to dream big? Maybe it’s safer to do as the parents say, but not as they do… right? Rationalization after rationalization — maybe this, maybe that? Making your way through this world is confusing. Even my parents say they are still growing up and they’re in their mid-fifties. Growth is eternal.

And for that matter, I ask you this; would you rather live a life fulfilling your dreams or staying safe? Staying comfortable. I’ve been facing this paradigm recently and my parents have much to say about it, advice to bestow upon my psyche, stories to tell. They aren’t me and I’m not them, so how can we both really contextualize each other’s perspectives? We can’t. We can try but I find that digs a deeper hole for both parties.

Yes, parents are wise. They have walked further and witnessed more, but this does not necessitate the degree to which one knows for certain. To which one knows the path that should be taken, the kind of shoes one’s child should walk in, the insurmountable is not hypothesized — it never was, and never will be. And well, that’s the beauty of it all. Of growing up. Growing old.

Wisdom does not equate to fortune-telling, to clairvoyancy. Life is a process of trying, learning, adapting, and growing. If I can’t live my life in ways that align with myself, how can I be content? Simple. Contentment is no longer in the court. Satisfaction wins the match. To be satisfied with one’s doings is not the same as being content. It’s similar to the feeling that overcomes you as you eat a meal — a new recipe. Wishing you made your classic lasagna instead of this fancy pasta your husband recommended. Satisfied, yet not entirely content with the final product.

I’m slowly learning that many people, especially those closest to you — expect all of the answers. Then and there. On the spot. But let me ask you this… Do you have yours? Your answers?
I now know that I’m the kind of person that will be continually (re)creating myself. As you can probably infer, I’m not the kind of person to live the same day, every day. I enjoy change, exploring, meeting new people, learning new things, witnessing new cultures, etc.

I’ve always been a dreamer but my anxiety got in the way for so many years, telling me that I wasn’t worthy, wasn’t able to do the things that I so badly longed for. As most parents are; mine are supportive and trusting but then again want answers that I don’t yet have — that I may never have. Being 20 is a weird stage in life. You’re still a ‘baby’ to some but to society you’re now ‘adult enough’ to take on some, but not all, real-life responsibilities.

You should have aspirations but not be unrealistic. You should be focused but still have fun. You should be enjoying your youth but not risk the fate of your future. You should explore the world and try new things but your studies come first. You should do this, not that. Wait, no, don’t do it like that, it’s like this.

Fuck.

I feel as if my mind is the volleyball used in tetherball. Back and forth, hit after hit, swinging and swaying. That’s what it feels like to not have the answers. To be thrown around, and without the knowledge of when I will be still again. When my mind will be calm. When the waves will wash ashore with such ease that I can see myself again — my reflection. So I can see where I am, in hopes of reflecting on where I want to go. Feet in the sand, head in the clouds; I stare into the water, seeing my face wash away.

And right then and there, I know. I know that I don’t need to know everything to know that I’m connected to it all — to everything. I don’t need to have it all figured out to know that things will turn out as they are meant to be. Because that’s how it is. That’s how the game is played. That’s the rhythm of the song. That’s it. That’s life.

Isobel Mae