Friday 10 June 2016

The Last Five Years
[this post is in response to a comment you can view here]


When I look back on the last 5 years of my life, I feel ashamed about the amount of things I managed to accomplish in that amount of time. 


Five years ago, I could tell myself that I've accomplished a lot in the last five years. I spent 4 of those years in college learning, and being productive and loving myself, and the year after college going through a poignant life-changing paradigm shift that involved a shady apartment in the city, hating myself, and lots of pot.


Five years ago, I could tell myself that it was okay to say, "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing with my life." Today I still don't know, and I'm reminded of my mother, who use to say all the time when she was still in her fifties that she still didn't know what she wanted to be when she grew up. I thought this was ridiculous - why didn't she just go after what she wanted? 


I guess I thought I would be super secure in my life choices by this point. And in a way, I suppose I am: I know now that I will always want more, or less - something I don't have. Even the most "successful" people don't have the perfect life. The perfect life doesn't exist.


... Or does it?