Consistency is not one of my strong suits. I mean, I could be worse. But really, for someone who wants to be a writer (in theory), has it really been two and a half weeks since I've shown my face on this here blog? Yes, yes; it's been "finals" for two weeks...but while I've been busy I've definitely not been too busy for a handful of things. I suppose I could share with you all that I actually am beginning to fancy myself a writer in some sense of the word. Even when I can't muster up the creative energy to sit in front of the computer, my brain is swirling with thoughts, with ideas, with reflections and questions that I am well aware belong on paper, since I process best that way. I daydream quite a bit about the lengthy, grueling, discouraging, and oh-so-tempting idea of one day writing a book. Many of you who are kind enough to read my blog have affirmed what used to be a secret, hidden away dream of mine by suggesting that you would read a book if I wrote it. This, I thank you for. One can never have enough kind words of encouragement tucked away when it comes to the thought of pursuing such a pipe dream.
More to the point for today, though, the BF has a way of thinking, learning, and doing life in a way that both challenges and encourages me in the best of ways. She too has recently been reflecting on commitment. I'm not the world's best committer. I, like Em, refuse to be told that I am non-committal because it just ain't true...but I'm pretty sure that there is plenty of room for growth in that arena. I feel that commitment and consistency are quite inter-related (if not synonymous), so while she is currently meditating on what commitment means in her life, for me, the buzz word swirling around up there is rather consistency. The concept is just different enough that the word choice matters to me, but encompasses a lot of similar stuff. If you remember, I was under the impression that I needed something like a dog a little while back to break me in to the idea of putting the needs of someone or something before my own at times. Due to circumstances beyond my control: a landlord who changed his mind, the honest-to-God dog-napping of Zeke (a tragic yet unbelievably real story!) I have no dog. I already killed my vegetable garden. The poor little guys never even had a chance. My gym membership? A joke. I trained for all of three days for a half marathon. Long-term romantic relationship? Oh, Lord... You get the idea. Help me.
I turn one quarter of a century old on Thursday. That, to me, feels like a bit of a landmark birthday. I know that people respond differently to such milestones. I've been anticipating this day for quite some time. Birthdays in general always seem quite anticlimactic to me as I generally feel no real change (aside from the actual, legal, landmarks of say 16 or 21); but something about crossing the line from 24 to 25 feels big. It feels significant. And I am proud to say it makes me unbelievably excited and hopeful. I was expecting dread. I was expecting loneliness, disappointment, maybe a bit of anxiety. But maybe my quarter-life crisis is going to continue to shape out be a crisis of the best kind. I feel like this birthday is kicking my ass in the good way. Like an army trainer at boot camp. My twenty-fifth year is staring me down, challenging me to be all that I can be. Causing me to take stock of the things that matter to me. The things I've stuck on the back burner, temporarily misplaced, tucked away for a rainy day. Priorities, interests, hobbies, personal values and ideals, goals, hopes, issues. Some of that future-oriented-anxiety is quite naturally still mixed in, but I'm okay with it for the moment. I feel good despite it's nagging presence.
More to the point for today, though, the BF has a way of thinking, learning, and doing life in a way that both challenges and encourages me in the best of ways. She too has recently been reflecting on commitment. I'm not the world's best committer. I, like Em, refuse to be told that I am non-committal because it just ain't true...but I'm pretty sure that there is plenty of room for growth in that arena. I feel that commitment and consistency are quite inter-related (if not synonymous), so while she is currently meditating on what commitment means in her life, for me, the buzz word swirling around up there is rather consistency. The concept is just different enough that the word choice matters to me, but encompasses a lot of similar stuff. If you remember, I was under the impression that I needed something like a dog a little while back to break me in to the idea of putting the needs of someone or something before my own at times. Due to circumstances beyond my control: a landlord who changed his mind, the honest-to-God dog-napping of Zeke (a tragic yet unbelievably real story!) I have no dog. I already killed my vegetable garden. The poor little guys never even had a chance. My gym membership? A joke. I trained for all of three days for a half marathon. Long-term romantic relationship? Oh, Lord... You get the idea. Help me.
I turn one quarter of a century old on Thursday. That, to me, feels like a bit of a landmark birthday. I know that people respond differently to such milestones. I've been anticipating this day for quite some time. Birthdays in general always seem quite anticlimactic to me as I generally feel no real change (aside from the actual, legal, landmarks of say 16 or 21); but something about crossing the line from 24 to 25 feels big. It feels significant. And I am proud to say it makes me unbelievably excited and hopeful. I was expecting dread. I was expecting loneliness, disappointment, maybe a bit of anxiety. But maybe my quarter-life crisis is going to continue to shape out be a crisis of the best kind. I feel like this birthday is kicking my ass in the good way. Like an army trainer at boot camp. My twenty-fifth year is staring me down, challenging me to be all that I can be. Causing me to take stock of the things that matter to me. The things I've stuck on the back burner, temporarily misplaced, tucked away for a rainy day. Priorities, interests, hobbies, personal values and ideals, goals, hopes, issues. Some of that future-oriented-anxiety is quite naturally still mixed in, but I'm okay with it for the moment. I feel good despite it's nagging presence.
So here's to 25. Cheers to consistency and to growth and to a birthday to look forward to!
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