The Calendar Year

The calendar year is super convenient. We tell ourselves each year that come January 1^st things are going to be different. We write a list about what we are going to change. We yearn to touch the imaginary refresh button. To get in shape. To stress less. To save more. But why have we waited until 2014 to change our mindset? We can make ourselves new every day- not just every new year.

So if you are like me, and have convinced yourself that new resolutions will make a new you, remember that it’s our daily intentions that bring a new us, not just January 2014.

As a post-graduate student 2013 was a year of expectation . . . after spending my entire life in the education system I was finally expected to do something with it. And when I recollect, I feel super proud of what I have achieved. I brought back life to a bank account drowned out from my Euro trip. I returned to Costa Rica and was reminded of my earthly connection, immediately dropping the American materialism that is so deeply ingrained with my lifestyle. I spent the year in the water, on the farm, and on my mat. I stuck headstand. I extended into bridge. Some days I left the studio feeling light, other times my body felt completely out of sync. But that’s how it goes and I saw a shift in myself as I started to take notice.

Because when you take notice you allow yourself to come from a place of growth.

So, personally, this year I felt accomplished. But, as a 23 year old without a “real job” I’ve been told I’m wimping out. Because the girl that graduated top in her class, she should have a hospitality job to brag about, or she should be year one through the Peace Corps. Instead, she takes care of children. How disappointing.

And you might be reading this and think, damn, why so harsh? We live in this society where we are told to go to school, get a job, get married, and have children. So anyone who seeks a life a little less regimented is characterized as strange. Lazy even.

I’ve exchanged the 9-5 for a life of travel.

Because when I was 16 and studied in Cadiz, Spain my heart of exploration was born. That first language exchange, when I was stumbling on words and my Spanish father was so sweaty, but had so much gusto and heart to his voice-that’s what got me. I crave culture shock. Newness. The exotic.

But almost like clockwork, when I step off the planes abroad and return to American life, my brother asks me “what are you running from?” often joined with, “when are you going to get your life together?” And usually I command the conversation, full of emotion, trying to explain myself. This holiday season, the get a “real job” conversation started on the highway a few hours from my parents place. And as I went into defense mode…explaining ,“I’m not living life according to THE plan.  What happened to the romanticism in taking the road less traveled?  I’m craving new language and culture,”… yada yada, tears began to roll down my face. And I was hardened. How many times do I have to hear this conversation that I’m not taking accountability for my life? More tears. And in that moment of making myself feel like the crappiest person ever, “oh no”, boom boom. A kitten had sprinted across the road and turned around right back into my car.

And it’s like that.

I was so deep into a sob story for myself, and then I killed a kitten. Now, life isn’t always so blunt. But there could have been no different a wake up call to this emotion-full defense I have for my unconventional future.  Brought back to the present moment, to what really matters, I pulled over and hugged my brother.

In the end I realized, what’s the big fucking deal?

So what? Yes, I’m avoiding the idea of the American Dream, Corporate America.  I’m running away from overabundance, this technologically rampant society, and first world problems. I’m looking for cultural exchange, new places, and different ways of living. I want to build relationships and connections, rather than accumulate objects and possessions. So what?

We can defend ourselves until we are blue in the face (or waterfalls flowing, in my case). I can convince myself that those who judge are just jealous of the freedom I’m taking. What’s the point? I can’t outline myself for others so that they understand me. I’ve got to just take the energy I have defending my dream, redirect it, and live it.  

Because all this defending and explaining is going nowhere- and I’m going everywhere. I might as well let go. Let go. There will always be the perception that I am a runaway. What better way to relieve myself than acceptance? Yes, I am a runaway.

I am a runaway on the road of exploration, and babycakes, I’m going to walk barefoot all over the globe.

Maybe someday, you will see my lightness and catch my radiance, and maybe, just maybe, you will chase after my unreasonable soul and ask, “can I come with you?”