I don’t know about you, but I am frequently asked the question, “What do you want to do with your life?” I never know how to answer. I know where I am in life now. I know what I’m doing with my life now. However, the future? No, thank you. Like I said in 7 Questions to Finding Life’s Purpose, I haven’t been able to find a suitable answer in terms of the future my entire life! It’s gotten to the point that the next time I encounter this predicament (you know, when Great Aunt Marge, the one I vaguely remember due to the mole on her chin, catches me at the latest family reunion and asks about my future) I’m just going to say something completely random: “Oh, I’m preparing to take a walk-about in the Australian Outback in order to better coagulate my thoughts into a state of higherness where I can adamantly state who and what I will be as a fuller adult.” Then as she pieces together that my statement obviously makes no sense whatsoever, I’ll walk away.
But seriously. Life. The future. To the majority of the world, the answer to that all-encompassing question could be stated every day: “I want to get a good job to pay for my college debt. I want to have a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice car. I want to get married, and have beautiful, respectful children.”
And so that is how life proceeds for many of Earth’s inhabitants. School, work, home, family, children, and the cycle continues. By the time you stop to catch a breath, you’ll look back on your life and marvel in the total normalness around which it revolves.
This. Is. My. Greatest. Fear.
I don’t want to be in my eighties and look back on my life and have normal, ordinary, common, typical be the defining features. I’m not saying normal can’t result in happiness because it does, for the vast majority. However, for me, ordinary does not suit.
I want extraordinary.
I want to see the world. Every inch and stone and dewdrop. Every single beautiful piece that God has placed on this earth, I want to experience it. Immerse myself in it. Take hold, no fear, and jump.
When I’m at my thirtieth class reunion (oh, I’ll be there) I want to tell stories that will make the eyes of my fellow peers glaze over as they dream of the possibilities. But I want the possibilities to be my reality.
I want to be the Amelia Earhart, Mary Magdalene, Margo Roth Spiegelman, of my own little world.
I want to wake up alive, not simply living.
I crave mystery, and so I am mysterious. Perhaps my name should just be added to the history books now…