My life is very typical and boring. When I was a teenager, I told myself that by now I'd have traveled to several countries, moved out of my parents house, established myself in the beginnings of a career and maybe even found a Mr. Right.
So far - none of those hopes apply.
As I've grown, I've watched one hope after the next fade further and further into the "someday" timeframe. And it's not like I've sat on my ass for the past several years doing nothing and bemoaning myself instead. Nope. I've finished college, I've completed several internships. I even partook in a very serious relationship. I held down work for two years - part of it before even finishing my degree.
Yet here I sit on my couch...make that my parents couch...wondering "what now."
I have been starting to wonder lately, just what makes up a life? I've given everything my best effort to advance and move forward. Yet for all my efforts, I'm sitting in the same room as I was 10 years ago at 15 years old when I started to think about all those things I mentioned above. Ten years have transpired. I've loved, I've lost, I've gotten lost, found myself, and gotten lost again. I've moved 1,000 miles and yet not an inch.
Who do I become as the years continue onward? When do I get my moment? When do I get to say "ok, I can financially support myself, I think I'll move out". Or "yes, I think he's the right guy for me, I think I'll start thinking more conciously about OUR future and not necessarily MY future." When does the cycle end? When does my record stop skipping? I've sung this verse 10,000 times more than I care to remember.
I know I'm young. I've tried so many times to take advantage of all those wonderful "opportunities" others envy me. I've applied to a lot of study abroad, volunteer, Americorp, distance living, you name it, cool things that people in their 20's are supposed to do. No. One. Wants. Me.
So here I sit.
I can feel myself caving in. I can feel myself giving up.
Sometimes I wish I was a lot older, so that I could cut to the chase already. My life so far has been one big disappointment after the next. How many more bullshit deadends do I have to "work really hard for", just to be totally disappointed again?
It is for all these reasons, that another thought has re-entered my mind. It is nothing new. When I was 6, I first started asking myself about entering religious life. SIX, yup, 6. As I grew up, I kept thinking things like "if I were a nun, this wouldnt happen", or "I wonder if I could do that if I were in a convent." or "I should probably keep that option open, just in case I enter the convent in a few years."
Thus, I've decided to test those waters for real. For a few short days in Feb, I'll be staying with a nearby group of sisters at their retreat house. I'll be talking to them, listening to them, eathing with them and taking part in a sampling of what their life is all about.
Whether or not that life is the life for me, I cannot escape the gathering feeling that there is deff an element to this current life that isnt for me - thats for sure. I'm not sure how I fit into the world yet, but I'm very much aware that something is amiss that I simply cannot see.