Where am I going?

To a place where

I sigh deep and smile,

the breeze caresses my cheeks

and there's not another person

for miles

 

I'll climb high

through the woods

with the city at my back, sweet

notes and melodies tickling

my soul, and love

love, love

boundless and reflecting

in my eyes,

for a world filled

with raindrops crashing down

on the pavement

that moves beneath my feet--

and I'll smile.

 

Well, I don't know if Spain "taught" me this, but I know I've learned this:

For the past 2 1/2 years that I have been at F&M, I have been living in a high-pressure, self-focused, success-driven bubble. I never even realized that this was not preferable. I just thought that the competitive nature that my school had brought out in my type-A personality was something positive that could only lead to my success in the future. And that "success" was the point of life--achieving "greatness"--making the most of oneself. I felt this sense of obligation, to do the most, be the best, push myself to the limit of my abilities. And I thought the fact that I had an increasing desire to be this way was a GOOD thing. I could help out this world, little old me, by using the talents and abilities I was born with and have been honing with the tools and opportunities I have been given by dear old F&M. Yet, having been here in Spain for only 3 weeks, I am beginning to wonder whether or not I really am happiest or even belong in a place that puts such an emphasis on achievement. Whether or not I really need to make the most of the gifts I've been given, and to sacrifice my comfort in the process. Whether or not I need to always be at the top, pushing myself constantly.

Here, that competitive edge in terms of achievement is just not a part of my daily existence. And it has only been the lack of its presence that has allowed me to realize just how integral it was to my life at F&M. Is this the kind of life I want to live?

Remember when you were a little kid and small things got you SO excited?

I was just reading old diaries I kept from when I was little and it brought back all these memories to me. I remembered things I'd done and how I'd felt and it just dawned on me that as a child, I saw the world through different eyes. I guess we all do, or maybe I was just particularly imaginative? I think all kids are that way though. There is so much mystery in the world as a child, so much unknown, that we fill it up with our own ideas about what the world could be. Anything becomes possible.

I remember walking through the woods in my backyard with my sister and her friend, and seeing this old house with a "No Trespassing" sign on it. To me, the house was surrounded with an aura of magic, filled with some dark deeds and possibly haunted. Just going near it scared me, because I truly believed in the imaginings I'd created in my mind. There were so many times I created these "possible stories" in the places and people I came in contact with as a kid. There were more houses in my neighborhood that had their own stories and moods I'd attached to them, but there were also other kinds of mysteries. I remember finding magic in history. I couldn't get enough of Benjamin Franklin (ironic since I now go to a college named after him). There were so many books about him that I checked out from the library, and each one made me believe that I, too, could become a great inventor. I found magic in my imaginings about everything in the world around me, filling in the gap between what I knew and what I believed could be possible. Every flower and tree and stone in my yard could possess a special power or purpose, not visible to an adult eye but very real to me as a child.

There was magic in growing up and changing so gradually that I'd never be able to notice it happening, in the idea of being an adult and having a job, in boys and in sex. The mystery of these unknown things combined with my curiosity and imagination as a kid, and the result was that the world seemed to be filled with magic and wonder. It created a giddiness and excitement about life that, as I read those old diaries last night, I realized somehow got lost along the way to maturity.

I started to think about how great it would be to be able to always live life with that same kind of attitude...that the world is full of possibilities and wonder and magic. I thought about how all people end up searching for things to fill the void that's left when they become aware, when the gap between what they knew and what they believed could be possible becomes filled with harsh realities.

I realized that as teenagers (and adults), drugs and sex end up becoming outlets for this need. Both are shrouded by mystery and take a person to a place that's above the ordinary, to a state of physical and psychological "magic." I don't want to say that either of these activities is inherently bad, just because they can be outlets for something greater. I think that some drug experimentation is fine for some people. And I think sex between two people who are in love is beautiful. But I do think that society's insatiable hunger for both may just be a symptom of life's loss of magic after childhood.

For me, like a lot of "young women" my age, the concept of romantic love is what still gives me that sense of magic and mystery. It's sort of like the idea of a prince charming that fills little girls' heads after watching disney movies. I've never been in love, so the gap between what I know and what could be possible has yet to be filled, thus I've got all these imaginings of what it might be like running through my head. I've imagined it to be something so out of the ordinary and beyond my everyday existence that it's almost dreamlike. It's almost magical. The only difference is that at 19, I've developed a cynicism towards that fantasy, because I know that life is still life no matter what you add to the recipe.

There are actually many ways that I am able to temporarily recapture that magical feeling that made up my childhood. Listening to certain music or viewing art can instill the feeling in me momentarily. Great friends can do the same. When you're with them the world opens up and becomes filled with possibilities you never saw on your own. I also love traveling and seeing a whole way of life unique from my own because it gives me the mind-boggling sensation that "Hey! There is life beyond anything I've ever known going on while I'm completely unaware!" It creates wonder and mystery. There's suddenly more than just the reality I've grown so used to. I can begin to imagine again. Then there are books and movies. Think Harry Potter and Twilight. Maybe that's why they're so popular, even with adults? There's not just a mere escape that comes from the pages of those kinds of novels...there's the idea that there is this whole other world, that there could be more to life than just the face-value daily routine we're so used to. There is magic.

But the problem with all of these sources of magic in adult life is that they are temporary. I'd love to find sustainable magic, but I've realized that the bottom line is we have to create our own if we want it to last. I'm talking about the kind that comes from within, from a person's overall attitude toward life. It's not dependent on another person or brought about by something bought in a store. It's yours alone and it won't ever go away. I really think that's the only kind of magic that lasts--inner magic--the result of creating a lens through which you see the world as rich with infinite possibilities.