Life is this string of moments that just happen until they don’t anymore, and some of these moments stand out brighter and shinier than others while other moments seem darker; we often define ourselves by these moments. There is a reason for this: It is easy; it is obvious. f course that first really big heartbreak you had was life-changing; we get that; I get that, but there is so much of our life that happens in the boring moments. The quiet moments. It is amazing how cityfolk act as if they have the monopoly on noise. Life is noisy. Have you ever stepped foot outside into the country or the suburbs? The animals won’t shut up. The dogs will not stop barking. The grass won’t stop moving. Someone is always needing your help; there are always deadlines pressing down on you, and when there is no one else there is yourself screaming at you to do more, be more, be better. It is motivating and debilitating. Well I am over it. I am over “waiting for my life to happen.”
Today was one of those rare days for me, at least the first part of the day when I was home alone was one of those days, when I had a moment or two or three of silence and I made a decision: I am going to start packing. I know it is not life changing, but perhaps it is life-affirming. I want something different for my life. I want to make an impact. To write and be read. To speak and be heard. I don’t know if I will get any of the jobs I have applied for or if it will be some place new I will go or some other job that I have yet to even hear of that I will one day get, but I just feel that it will come.
You see, you have to believe in yourself. Particularly when you are down. You can’t have others believe in you ; I mean it is nice, but have you ever tried living your life unsure of yourself while others keep telling you how much they believe in you? They become annoying and cloying, every word they say feels like a knife, and they never let you breathe. You transform into a vicious bitch of a person and all because they are encouraging you and telling you how wonderful you are when you don’t believe it, but you don’t believe it because you don’t have a win. You are well over twenty-five (my personal cut-off) and into your thirties, living at home with your parents while you complete your doctoral degree and you can’t get a job to hire you to save your life because they don’t understand that a job would save and change your life. And you don’t just want any old job but a one you’ll love, and you deserve it because you have put in time and effort and done everything the world said you are supposed to; so of course at this point you are not believing in yourself. But, this is when you need to stand in front of that mirror and say “fuck it!”
I am saying fuck it. Fuck being stuck at home. Fuck being sad; sadness has it’s place but that is not here. I am not saying I believe in myself but rather I am showing it. I am grabbing boxes and placing my belongings in them and stacking them in the corner. Something is coming; I don’t know what it is but something is coming—I must have faith in that; I don’t believe in God; I don’t believe in much but I got to believe in myself. You must do the same. So I am packing and stacking, only the essentials, because a change is gonna come.