Hello, travelers. I’ve got a few things I want to get done tonight and it’s already late, but I also wanted to write to you since it’s been a few days. So lighting round of blogging, go!
Today I bought my planner for 2016. I’d actually been putting it off for a few days. The planners came into work at the beginning of the week and every time I walked by the display I thought, ‘Hey, I should get my new planner’ and then just kept walking.
People close to me will find this avoidance odd because I’m highly organized and have a love for notebooks and office supplies of all kinds. But I think I’ve been putting it off (albeit not for that long) because 2016 will be the first year of my life where I can’t see what my life will be like. I don’t know where I’ll be living, who my friends will be, where I’ll be working, where I’ll shop for my groceries or where I’ll get my hair done (I’ve had the same hair dresser for 16 years, it’s kind of a big deal to me).
We are all guilty of imagining the future. In fact, trying to imagine what my life will be like in the coming months makes me think of a John Green quote I’m fond of:
Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.
If memory serves, I think it was actually John’s wife who said this and he stole it and put it in Looking For Alaska. Writers, am I right? And for me, this statement definitely feels accurate. I don’t have any clue what life will be like in New Zealand but I catch myself all the time thinking about what it could be like and what I hope it will be like. Sometimes I find myself missing what I’ve haven’t even gotten yet.
I feel suspended in this place of limbo, caught between the life I’m still living and the yet-to-be-revealed life I’ll have in New Zealand. I’m moving from a place well-loved to a place unknown. It’s thrilling, in some ways, and terrifying in others. I’m reminded of another of my favorite quotes:
It is only the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.
(Can anyone name that quote’s origin? Book, author, or character? Or all three!)
I’m not looking upon death, and only looking upon darkness in a metaphorical sense. And I’m only a little afraid. But the sentiment holds true. What truly is worrying me is simply all the unknowns.
That’s life though, isn’t it? One big string of unknown things, one after the other, shaping and shifting who you are. Who wants to know everything and have everything planned out? (Yes, friends and family, the irony is not lost on me.) So I shall say to you, go forth, ye fearless travelers! Seek out the unknown and revel in the mysteries of life!