Photo credit: Michael Lipsey
Is it not the most beautiful feeling to come home from a busy day at work in your own car, to pull up in a parking spot in front of your own apartment, to walk into your very own studio, and clean it up a bit. Is it not the most beautiful feeling, to lovingly carry down your dirty laundry, fit the little coins into the washer slots and listen to the water rush over your very own clothes.
Last night I sweat over a Swiffer sweeper, pushing it forward and back, compulsively sweeping and swiffing every inch of my studio. I felt little beads of sweat trickle down the back of my neck and down my chest, and lovingly wiped the dust from my counter tops, the tiles in my bathroom, and the dust from my window sills. They were indicators of my absence.
When I see my little microwave atop my fridge, sometimes I want to cry. My coffee maker, my sugar, my too-large dish rack fitting lopsided in my little sink. How can life be this neat, this tidy, this perfect? I always want to remember this time in my life, when I had a decently paying full-time job, a loving boyfriend, a functioning car, and a tidy little studio to come home to and light a candle, turn on the box fan, and listen to it whirr and whirr. When I take a look around at my life, when I really stop and just listen to it, it is absolutely perfect.
I realized last night that all along, life has foolishly led me to believe in the phrase “I will be happy when…” Everything is always “I will be happy when…” and “I can’t wait until…”
But when I think about that ‘one day’ when I will be ‘happy’, when I really think about it, it doesn’t seem real. When I think about me in the future and what I’ll be doing, and how anxious I am about getting to that place, wherever it is….in that place I am always happy. I am always happy. And in the present, when I’m thinking of my future, I am always unhappy.
But how can that be? How can I be unhappy? I’ve been given the privilege of life, of existence, and I’m constantly thinking about some fantasy place in the future that doesn’t exist? What’s happening right now, all around me? How often did I dream about finding the perfect boyfriend at 18? How often did I dream about finding a full-time job that wasn’t in a huge corporate office building? And for how long did I sit in that old apartment with my roommate, dreaming of the day when I would find the perfect studio apartment to call my own?
I’ve got it. I’ve got it all. Do you realize what is happening right now? I’m freaking the fuck out. All my life I wanted to do something cool, something great. All my life I was imagining and imagining the hell out of my future when I was in college, wondering where I would be and how I would end up and this is it. I’m here. I fucking made it. That fantasy place in the future is here. And tonight I’ve just realized it, in the tiny microwave, in the whirr of the fan, in the perfect, perfect dust.
And if I can make it here, (and sit in beautiful contemplation of it all), this of course begs the question, where else can I go?
Don’t mistake me though, because I am in love with right now. I don’t want to get lost in that fantasy future place of plans and what ifs and “I will be happy when”….but I feel so grateful for the life that I have had up until this very moment, that I’m just excited about what’s to come of it all.
So in this perfect night, I say it’s time we sat back and thought about our fucking accomplishments ladies and gents, and remembered that no one got you to where you are today except yourself. If you ever have a doubt on this earth about your capa-fucking-bilities, take a look around. You’re certainly not the same person you once were. What in the hell does that say about where you’re going?