The final step into the rest of my life. They say (those wise invisible philosophers we love so much), that life is what happens while you are waiting for your dreams to come true. A valuable anti-koan to meditate on as a young person.
It marks the end of dreams, or at least the end of the excuse of youth for having to many. Sad.
Yet potentially invigorating! The knowledge that THIS IS IT. Its for real now in a way that it isn't before. It's all down hill from here, to cliche it up some more.
I was supposed to have finished my opus, my fictional 10 year literary autobiographical romp from ages 21 to 31, by the time I actually reached the age I was in it. It was ambitions I know, and great in concept. I was going to follow up my first book "Far Edge of Seventeen" with a projection of what my life would be from ages 21 to 31.
I was to write of the love I would find, the work, babies, sex and drama. My divorce, deaths and the theme of my life and of my dreams, finding myself again. Far Edge was about finding myself.
Maybe I can only really write when I am lost? That would be a good thing, as it means I am not so lost right now. Still no enduring love with a partner, no career, no babies and way too little sex! But that is a common dilemma. I look around and see me everywhere, grown girls still dreaming.
I am less concerned now than a couple years back about my life, and where it is going. Less motivated to direct it obsessively. More accepting of the sweet flow, and more accepting of the bitter snags. Meditation brings insight. And acceptance, and joy, stability, patience...
But it is here. My life. Staring me in the face in every aware moment. Do I listen the to minds worries? All the what ifs? Or just be so very present in it at every moment that there is no room for extraneous thought?
My love to you...
A feeling very mature Chloe