I sat with my roommate, Lucy (Danielle is in Colorado on vacation–we miss her!!). She wanted ice cream and I went with. I was pissed when I learned they no longer served the lemon ice. So pissed, I stubbornly refused to eat anything. Those bastards.
We sat there…both of us in an empty space, sitting in a cold booth and filling the air between us with hard, frigid questions–thinking about the future, rather than basking in the here and now as we so often do. Trying to decide where on earth we would be a year or a decade or 25 years from now.
And we contemplated what the signs were, and more importantly, what they meant.
Why were we here, living in this city together–what were we being prepared for?
What did these people who strolled into our lives really mean? Could we accept them without judgement in our minds that still long for the juvenile hopefulness of optimism and understanding…we hoped that we could.
What lessons are we supposed to take from those we looked up to in college–those who molded us from flighty 18 year olds to seemingly competent academics who analyzed the world and the issues surrounding it…why were they there–and why did we know them? We knew we would change in college, but I don’t think we anticipated the way our mindset would change. What were we supposed to take away from all of this?
And then pragmatically, we continued thinking, is little change at in life and at work a sign that you are doing well where you are, or a sign that whatever is controlling the universe is trying to make it easier for you to move on and find your true passion?
We’re in our mid-twenties. The oldest we’ve ever been, but in the eyes of so many others, still “so young.” And we sat there–she shared her cookie dough ice cream, and we wondered–what is next? And when does this feeling that you are out there floating without direction– floating in the midst of the ‘then’ and the ‘future’– come to an end? When will we figure it out? And more importantly, how do we make the right decisions?