If you're a close friend of mine, you probably know that I've been thinking about my current career path. I've been on the same trajectory since I graduated college, and I've had to admit that actually, it's not making me happy. I'm exploring new things and carving out time for more writing. It's strange and scary and has given me a lot to talk about with my therapist.
I also just turned 29, and I have a lot of anxieties about turning 30 (although I have heard that your thirties are actually wonderful, because you stop giving a fuck what people think. As a chronic people-pleaser, I think I could use some of that energy). 30 just feels so big. 30 is a real adult, and right now, I'm a fake adult. 30 is when I'm supposed to have my shit together, and it's hard to believe I will.
I'm a bit overwhelmed, but I'm starting to feel a little less lost. I wrote this quick poem on my Notes app, and I thought I'd share it here, too.
We'll find our way. 🖤 🌈
kaleidoscopes
(or, i was never good at following directions, anyway)
i used to believe
dreams were like maps:
pick a destination.
plan your route.
begin.
i thought
the cosmic gps
would tell me which way to go,
and i would arrive feeling
exhausted and happy,
a tank full of gas
and stories to tell.
now i wonder
if dreams are like kaleidoscopes:
look.
turn this way.
turn that way.
try again.
and again.
maybe dreams are
unexpected and ever-shifting,
full of colors that still
take your breath away.