Fenced In

I have been evaluating my life lately. Taking a look at my current priorities (or what seem to be my priorities) and taking stock of my passions, my dreams and aspirations. To an extent I guess I'm having a mid-life quarter-life crisis. But "crisis" isn't quite right. It's more of a "quarter-life evaluation" with the prospect of re-organization.

I think this kind of evaluation is very important to do at times or else it might turn into a crisis when you realize at 40- or 50-years-old that your life has veered off course and getting back on track will take much more effort and potentially become chaotic. So I'm evaluating things and I'm discovering (or realizing) that my current priorities, while fine and more or less "safe" and "responsible", will not necessarily bring me lasting happiness and help me fulfill my dreams and aspirations.

I'm usually the one to play it safe. I tend to dream big but act cautiously to avoid failure. But sometimes you just have to make a leap, take the plunge, risk failure and possible unhappiness in order to figure out what will bring you happiness.

I am tethered down to some extent by my health, both by the diseases themselves and by the treatments for them. In fact, I'm often literally tethered - to an IV pole or a portable pump in a backpack. I stay as mobile as possible but I am tied down nevertheless. Anytime I think about moving away - to Maine or to Oregon - the question always arises of what I'd do about doctors. And if I'd be able to support myself. And what if I got sicker and was living to far from home to go and be taken care of by my family. I want to dream big and take the leap, but these strings and IV tubing seem to hold me where I am - tied down by the need to stay where I am with my doctors and family to help take care of me.

Yesterday I went to the Montreal Contemporary Art Museum (yes, I'm in Montreal right now) and I saw this photograph that just spoke to me and more or less explained how I feel about my life. It was of a woman sitting on the ground looking out at the world below her (it was on a hill of some sort and shot from behind the woman). And there was a fence in front of her as though she was caged in. That's me - the woman longingly looking out at the world and all its possibilities but I have a fence keeping me from the world. Maybe the fence will dissolve away. Or maybe I'll learn to jump over it or fly out of the cage. The world is waiting there in front of me and one day I'll make the leap and learn to fly.

Yours,
Penguini