A Book with Blank Pages


Is it bad that I don’t have my life mapped out like others? I have such an array of interests that keeps me on the edge of this confusing leap of faith we call a “career”. Is it so terrible that I don’t want to be stuck behind a desk for 20 or 40 years listening to how terrible I am doing instead of how great of a job I’m doing? That is not what I want for myself.

I want to enjoy life.

I want to experience life.

I want to skydive, ride horses, hike mountains, swim in lakes, ride roller coasters, and pick beautiful wildflowers off of the side of the road as I travel across the country. I want to eat delicious food from Ireland and Italy. I want to eat desserts and drink vino (wine) from France. I want to know what it feels like to lose something and what it feels like to win. I want to feel the struggle, the persistence, and the dedication it takes to turn nothing into something. I want to love and be loved. I want to marry “the one”. I want to experience growing life from within and raising him/her in our beautiful mess of a world. I want to grow old with the love of my life and be able to talk about the many adventures life gave us.

Isnt that what life is all about?

I truly don’t see myself sitting behind a desk working like a dog for “the man”. I don’t see myself making my boss his money, I see myself making my own money. My own money that I can soon one day use to experience all of life’s amazing adventures and little treasures.

My true happiness? It’s not in creating a plan for my life and having it “all figured out”. It is taking one day at a time and seeing what each day has in store for me. It is feeling the warm sun on my skin and feeling the cool breeze through my hair.

 Only then do I know that my life is mine to live,

My own story to write and create,

A book with blank pages.

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