� stepping lightly over paths of green � 2003-06-12 � 9:51 p.m. �
I feel like every step I take is a part of a puzzle I am not sure I'll ever complete... it's a stretch of road new to me...
I thought of that while in the car tonight... thinking it feels simply like another one of my phases... like this isn't LIFE for me, but a dance I have to begin in order to finish and move on with things....
I never set goals for myself... I never say within a year I'll be this... or do this... within five years I'll have this degree and have four kids... I'll never say it. I think expectation sets us up for disappointment in the long run... promises only mean something when they're broken.
I have no expectations of myself beyond my next breath. And in that, and that alone, I spare myself some suffering.
When I was eight I wanted to be Nicole on Danger Bay or Dian Fossey... I wanted to work with whales... or monkeys. When I was 13 I thought Lois Lane had it good... after that I never gave life much thought... six years later I became a journalist. I hate it.... and it's still what I am according to acedmics... but I didn't know eight years ago what I've learned in the last five. I didn't know news would depress me. I didn't know I would be sick... i didn't know life, and the people in it would mould me - change me so much. I am smart now... stronger and still weak.
So I look behind me at a small piece of this jagged life... layed out close together with no real fit... like the Mona Lisa in a thousand years of weather and ran... it's there but it isn't as beautiful as it could have been.
I step lightly every day.... my world turns in shifts of eight. It works for me... Nothing is so permanent I need to commit... nothing is so translucent I can't count on it. It is there and it it's as real or surreal as I allow it to be.
I am disillusioned... but I have earned it.
I suppose that is the transient in me... the need to shift with the water at the hand of the wind... the need to be as thin as my blood and as thick as my skin.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �