I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted here. I feel pretty okay with that. I realize that it was supposed to be a tool to keep a log of my travels and let everyone at home see what I was up to, but honestly, Facebook kind of covered the most important aspects there. Not only was writing taking up too much of my time, it was taking focus in my mind while I was traveling. Instead of enjoying myself, I was wondering what I needed to write about next. That’s not a proper way to experience it.
I’m now four days from the end of my trip. Four days. It’s hard to contemplate how quickly that summer went. I had an amazing, eye opening experience. Some of the trip was fantastic and other parts were very difficult. Most of those things deserve their own post. There’s not much that I can describe in just a few sentences, but we’ll get to those later.
Over the last couple of days I’ve been thinking about life and the way we go about living it. I’ve always been told and believed that I would do amazing things in life. I’ve always done well in school, worked hard and spent a lot of free time volunteering. The trouble is that even with two college degrees, I find myself without a big girl job and entirely unmotivated in the fields I studied. I don’t know what I want and I don’t believe I will know anytime soon.
I’ve never been good at being passionate. I like to dabble. My hobbies are occasional things that I do when the mood strikes me. I enjoy things while I’m doing them, but never enough to continuously pour my affections into them. A jack of all trades and master of none.
The last couple of years, I’ve been telling myself that something is very wrong with me. The fact that I have no drive towards a single passion must mean I’m unmotivated. I don’t want to climb a ladder that means I work (possibly unhappily) 50 weeks a year BEGGING for that time off so that I can be whisked away on adventure for 14 blissful days. I’ve always enjoyed my downtime a little more than I thought was acceptable. It didn’t occur to me until these last few weeks that maybe, just maybe, I’ve been very hard on myself.
Now that I have a boyfriend in Belgium, the idea of being tied down for the rest of my life 50 weeks out of the year seems pretty unreasonable. It’s something everyone has to do, sure, but forever? That seems like an awfully big waste of my life to me. This is where a bunch of people chime in and call me a slacker, but why? I can’t imagine spending my whole life nailed down, just waiting to retire. Why should my living my life stop when I’m in my twenties and pick back up again in my golden years? 50 years is a lot of life to waste!
Another thing that dawned on me is that passions don’t need to be things, jobs or hobbies. They can be people. And why not? It’s becoming very clear to me that the people in our lives can be our passion and that there’s nothing wrong with that. I used to be very disconnected from the idea that a woman’s passion could be her family or that a man could pour his love into his girlfriend. But why should we not live for those things? Aren’t the people in our lives the most precious things we have? Why shouldn’t we be pouring our time and love into those people?
I know this now because I’m realizing that my boyfriend is my passion. I love putting time and energy into things for him. I’m motivated to make our relationship work, even with the challenges we face. I worked my ass off to get to Europe to be with him. That’s what I’ve been putting the majority of my time into and it’s what I plan on putting my time into for a long time to come.
It’s taken a while, but I know now that I’m not passionless. I just spread my passions a little further than others choose to. I like to dabble. I’m not unmotivated. I work hard, I work long and I do quality work. It’s just that I’m learning that it’s okay to follow happiness instead of the expectations of society. And that being said, I’m off to bed for now.
Safe Travels friends.