Blessed Are The Curious

I once read something that described each year as a chapter in the book of our lives, with each of the 365 days as pages in which we choose which direction our book will unfold. And while that may sound rather cliche, I quite like the idea of having each day to decide what I'm going to do, where I'm going to go, and who I'm going to be.

This past year, I've had more time than usual to think about my future. I'm graduating from college in a year and I've yet to see the world outside my own. I'm 20 years old and I can't help but feel like I am so small in comparison to the rest of the outside world. Oh sure, I've made plans to travel, to soak up as much culture and experience as I can before I'm too old and busy to think about big adventures. But the more I think about what lies ahead, the more anxious I become about all of my dreams and aspirations slipping out of my ambitious fingers.

I say that because we've been taught since we were toddlers that our main concern in life should be "getting a good job with benefits" and "finding the right person" and "becoming a contributing member of society." Our elders want what's best for us, of course, but who decided that settling was the ultimate goal? What happened to the American Dream, the idea that everyone who is well and able should do whatever it takes to chase their dreams and find their own success?

Well, Uncle Sam and the rest of society can go take a flying leap. Because in all honesty, thinking about the future is depressing. And depressed isn't how I want to feel when I make plans or consider what might be coming next. I don't want to have a 5-year plan, or think about 401k plans, or worry about just paying the bills. And while I understand that survival in this fast-paced world takes responsibility and hard work, I've always felt that there is something more to life than just existing day by day (or paycheck to paycheck). 

Don't get me wrong, I like the idea of security. But I don't think having a plan is all it's cracked up to be. After all, planning for the future can only get you so far. Life is uncertain and ever-changing. And while I don't recommend completely living on the edge (since living is technically the goal), I think life deserves more spontaneity, more adventure.

Have you ever been going about your business shopping for groceries or reading a book or chatting with your friends and you suddenly get a longing deep in your bones to drop everything, get on a plane, and just go somewhere? I have. Many times. So many times, in fact, that my thirst for adventure can finally be made into a reality. So I'm planning a trip to Ireland in May of 2016. I've saved and planned and researched for almost two years and the fact that the number one item on my bucket list is about to be crossed off makes all of my hard work and anticipation worthwhile. 

I'm not telling you this to make you envious, but rather, to let you know that adventure is possible, regardless of what others say or what you may see as your limitations. When I tell people about my dreams of traveling and exploring, I often get told to stop wishing my life away. And while it's rather annoying that so many people don't understand why I want the things that I want, I know that I don't have to validate myself (especially my goals) for anyone. 

So I want to let you know that it's okay to want adventure and excitement. It's okay to have doubts about what society "wants" for you. It's okay to be a dreamer. And it's okay to live your life exactly like you want. Maybe for you, adventure is becoming a CEO of an important company. Or maybe it's paragliding in South Africa. Or maybe it's preforming brain surgery. Or maybe it's getting married and starting a family. Regardless of what it is that you dream of, please don't be afraid to step outside your comfort zone (and the opinions of others) and truly go for it. Whatever it may be.

I think that more often than not, we pack away our big dreams and fantasies into neat little boxes and shove them under our metaphorical beds because we've been tricked into thinking adventure is what irresponsible/flighty/unpredictable people want. But I think it can't be stressed enough how short life really is. After all, when you're  97 years old and your great-grandson asks you what you did in your lifetime, what are you going to have to say for yourself? So do whatever it takes to make your dreams come true. Because your adventure is out there and it is just as achievable as anyone else's.

"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known"

-Carl Sagan

The English Major's Tale of Woe

While the majority of millennial-age college students are dedicating four (or more) years to the studies of business, medical science, psychology, or some other career-confirmed pathway to success, there are a select, questionably sane few who choose to take the road less traveled and major in an area of the liberal arts. While I may inadvertently defame my own career path in the process of writing this, I in no way regret the choice to join the elusive cult of English majors. In fact, I love that I chose a major that requires centuries-long hours in the library writing 10-page essays on why the color yellow in Crime and Punishment is a symbol of Raskolnikov's struggle with the conflict between morality and mental illness. Exhilarating stuff, right? But in all honesty, choosing to become an English major was one of the easiest (and most rewarding) decisions I've ever made.

As a child who would rather sit in a corner reading Jane Eyre than play Capture the Flag with the rest of the neighborhood kids, I was always singled out as a little weird. And while I am an extrovert in most areas, I also happen to love the solitary aspect of the written word. I have a rather idealistic view of the world and I honestly believe in the good in everyone. So maybe that's the reason I am so easily able to lose myself in a novel for days on end. Or perhaps it is why I enjoy writing poetry and short stories that no one but myself ever reads. Everything I read or write is for myself. 

Therefore, becoming an English major was the obvious choice. Choosing what I wanted to accomplish with that major, however, wasn't so easy. I knew from the beginning that I would be forever bombarded with questions like, "English Major? So you want to teach?" and "Oh...English. How are you going to make a career out of that?" But I've always been the type of person who does exactly what she wants, when she wants, regardless of the thoughts of others. (Not exactly the best character trait to possess but, I digress). Because the field of English is stereotypically designated to prim librarians or those crazy cat-lady literature professors, I've decided to take a less conventional route and work my way into editing and publishing. I can very well picture myself sitting in a corner-office reading the manuscript of an up and coming author, deciding whether or not his or her work has the potential of becoming the next Great American Novel. Books have staying power despite how technology-dependent our society has become. There is no greater feeling than cracking the spine of a freshly printed novel and smelling the crisp, acidic smell of the pages. Novels, poems, magazines, blogs, news articles, and short stories all have one thing in common: their ability to transport the thoughts of the reader somewhere else. And I so desperately want to become a part of that process. 

Plus, I figure that if I have to correct grammar for a living, I'll have something solid to blame my coffee addiction on. So there's that.

So while others may not understand my choice to major in an area with no direct path to prosperity, I will have my reward. Because as Winston Churchill once said: "Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts."