Wednesday, December 3, 2014
I have nearly 50 blog posts that are partially finished and saved as drafts, or finished, but are quite up-front, and I'm not sure if it's acceptable to share them. (Something I will probably do after I'm no longer working as an educator.) And every once in a while, I look through some of them, delete some, update some, or just re-save it thinking, "I'll deal with that one later," where it ends up staying for endless months more. That's what I was in the middle of doing, when I came upon this post, that struck quite the chord within me. It was written on July 31, 2012, while I was working in a cubicle 40 hours a week at the coveted Disney/ABC Television Group. I'll let it speak for itself.
Why is it so unacceptable to just be a gypsy? Would it really be that bad if I quit my job, packed up a bag with what I could, and became a traveler? A life full of adventures and mystery is sure to be more satisfying and rewarding than a life in a box. Never knowing who or what is around the next turn can be scary, but it's usually the scariest things in life that prove to have the most worth. Not knowing where my next meal might come from would be a bit frightening considering that I love to eat so much, but even that is a minimal issue in retrospect. No matter how hard I try, I can't shake the feeling that I am meant to do more than I am right now, and I shouldn't keep waiting just so I can put in my time and gain more security for the future. I know that thinking in the long-term is the best way to plan and live, but I've never fallen into the category of "normal," I don't even believe there is a such thing. With so many different kinds of people, how could there be? I don't know, maybe I just feel like I know I can do more with this life, and I'm not maximizing my potential or being pushed.