pencil it in

For the first time in about three years, I have found stability. The next ten months of my life are tentatively, if not already concretely, planned, and now all that is left to do is sit back and wait for time to pass. Nice, right? In a time of insecurity, I have found a little bit of peace. I know where my money is coming from, I know where it's going, and I know what it's doing for me. And all the while, I'll be doing what I love.

Why, then, aren't I more excited?

This is the strange thing about being transient. You rely on instability to give you the drive and motivation to keep going. You crave it, even though you'd never admit it, because it means that you're constantly seeking something more. More than what's in front of you and more than what you're capable of, thus transforming you into a stronger, smarter, and more worldly person. There's a cruel kind of superiority in our thinking. We can handle the worst of the worst because we've been there, done that. Stability is for people who won't risk following their hearts and chasing after their dreams.

Most of all, when life is not certain, you become aware of your blessings. Like the fact that I can say, with complete honesty, that once in my life, I had a job I loved with the whole of my heart and my being. Time didn't matter, money didn't matter. I did what I felt like I was born to do.

Rewind to about five years ago, shortly after I graduated college. I will admit, I was a control freak. Back then, and even sometimes now, I wanted a clear delineation of what was to come, complete with the answers to every possible "what if." Life had to be mapped out years in advance because it was all a part of the greater plan: progress to management, start a hefty savings, meet a guy, fall in love, start a family. But that didn't seem to be the plan for me. None of it, from the very beginning, made me feel happy. I felt out of place, and I wanted more than that kind of life had to offer. So I left it behind in search of excitement and purpose, and along with that came instability.

Today, I am filled with gratitude and awe at the gifts my life has offered me. It's peculiar then that now, when given the chance to breathe and truly appreciate everything that has come my way, I feel unfulfilled. Maybe because the stability reminds me of a life I didn't want. Or perhaps I fear that I may neglect a better opportunity that might come along. I don't know. It's stupid, meaningless, and most likely, fleeting.

I will embrace the blessing and pencil it all into my calendar. I really am incredibly fortunate to be living the dream.