A change in the weather, especially to Fall, has always done something strange to me. I love this time of year, truly. After the misery that can be August in Texas, even the hint of cooler weather is invigorating. It makes almost anything seem possible and reignites this desire to conquer the world. The idealism of that 17-year old who was finally free to do anything for the first time comes surging back to the surface. I feel like I should be embarking on this great adventure, or falling in love, or finally becoming what I’ve always thought I wanted to be. It’s amazing, and sobering. Because the reality is, I’m not 17. I’m already past 27, aren’t I? And what happened to those ideals, those goals, that fearless kid? I’m guessing she’s still around here somewhere.
What really happens is a time of re-evaluation, reflection….refraction. I know this pattern. It usually ends with a flipping upside down of everything in the name of sorting it out and the eventual cleanup. But this time…this time I can’t even begin to deal with the idea of that clean up. It’s too much. It’s amazing how big a mess you can make when you put your mind to it. Or maybe that’s what happens when you don’t put your mind to anything. Is the normal life simply that of one who has blindly followed the established formula? Add X, stir, simmer. Careful not to mix in Y, because then the whole thing becomes unstable. Chemistry is a cautionary tale. Too acidic, find something to neutralize the catalyst.
Maybe that’s the difference. The impulsive reaction is to be anything but neutral and boring. Be loved, be hated. Be anything but normal. Anything is better than being fucking neutral. Pull back for a minute. Survey. Stable job, long term relationship, roots put down, so much to lose. It seems like the perfect start to a perfect life. But perfection isn’t ideal. Perfection isn’t necessarily beautiful. It’s cold, sterile, formulaic. It only works if that was your goal. Maybe it’s really the perfect time to mix it all up again before it has a chance to settle or solidify.
So now what? Neither option is really ideal, but doing nothing changes nothing. A brief survey finds that I should be fucking grateful. And I am. Don’t let my introspection fool you into thinking that I don’t fully appreciate what’s right in front of me. Maybe that punk kid will always be in the back of my head, always fighting to usurp any form of establishment. She will always argue that growing up means I’ve given up. But maybe, just maybe, the secret is embracing her spirit, and not her methods.
“We can do a hell of a lot more damage in the system than outside of it.”
