Torn

Perhaps it’s the buzz of a propeller, or squirm of a nervous novice that causes me to engage in nostalgia, but it’s during those moments when I sit perched upon a leather chair at the departure terminal, when I am reminded of my grandest adventures. The best and finest details of a memory come bellowing through my mind like the great ore of a tide that pulls me under, and continues to ring in my ears even after I’ve resurfaced.

But like all good things, all such journeys have an acute downside.

With worldly experiences comes the excitement of all things new, of all things untried. And as I experience more, know more, and conquer the tinges of fear that lurk within me, I only find that I know less about what I want to do next with my life. Yes, I’m on an amazing path to safety: great job, great potential at job, great lifestyle that accompanies great job. But with every new trip I make & every new culture I experience, I continue to unveil a spectrum of opportunities that make the ‘safe path’ pale in comparison. I become more aware of the various combinations of circumstance, and begin to list the opportunity costs of committing to a career so soon in life. And perhaps this is one of those subjects that I’ve completely over-thought; but with this relativity, I grow more and more ambivalent towards my career (even if I love my job as is). It’s that ripping sensation of love-hate and pros-cons. There is no longer an academic template to follow to make life infinitely easier. No mold, no default, no tangible or marketable item to tell me what needs to be done next. You’d think that the more I discover, the more questions I answer about myself (which is true in a sense); but conversely, the more I discover, the more questions I ask. And as contradictory as the two may seem, I’m almost certain that there’s a correlation between knowledge and confusion.

I will never desire to know less about the world in order to love and appreciate what I know now, because I will never cease to love what I’ve always known. And with every runway landing, I never expect to return to the intimacy of what was there before I left. I’ve learned that the world has so many facets that have allowed me to conclude that life is not one-dimensional. And if that means that I’ll have to answer a new question about myself every single day of my life ~ it’ll be more than worth it. It’s the frightening acuity of not knowing what next year will be like, that sharpens even the dullest of my senses.