Post Breakup, Pre Breakdown

(Song that would go well playing in the background of this blog post: "Knife" by Grizzly Bear.)

My life used to be a stack of orderly papers, taller than me, sitting on a desk. And a couple of weeks ago, I metaphorically burst into my office and pushed my entire life off of the desk. Then I snatched papers off the ground in fistfuls and threw them all up in the air and laughed like a wild maniac and jumped up and down as they came fluttering down all around me. I lay there for a while in that unholy pile, waiting for my crazy laughter to subside. When it did, I stood up, brushed myself off, and let the door close behind me with a click. Everything changed but nobody noticed.

And that's sort of how I feel today. A year ago today, my whole life was planned out. The boy I loved was writing me love letters. I was going to be an occupational therapist and help disabled kids, and I was going to make pretty good money doing it. My life was going to be so damn satisfying. But in the middle of last May, in the middle of South Africa, my best friend broke my heart in entirely unpredictable ways. In the middle of a speech delivered by my academic advisor in this unfortunate class I'm taking this semester (ironically called Seminar in Graduate Admissions), I decided to ditch graduate school and occupational therapy. 

I will never forget the conversation that sealed the deal on that last one because my academic advisor gained so much of my respect. I basically walked into his office one day and sank into a chair and rambled and rambled. Like, what was I supposed to say? "Oh, so you know how we talked about me going to graduate school next year and having a solid future?...Well, umm, that speech you gave in class yesterday really got me to thinking....and what if I just, like, abandoned all logic and certainty and.....well.....just didn't quite go?" Much to my surprise, my advisor's response was this: "You probably don't wanna talk to me about this, cause I'm probably not going to tell you what I should tell you." And then he launched into this whole inspiring life talk involving his love of fishing and the ocean and California. "Now don't get me wrong," he said, "because I love my job and I think it's important. I love talking to brilliant young college students with bright futures ahead of them like you..." (Bonus points, academic advisor. Bonus points.) "...But if I had to live my entire life over again, would I be the head of this department? No. I don't even really care about the subject matter, to be honest. I would be out on the coast teaching little kids about marine conservation. I would be out living my passion." 

Well, hot damn. When I left his office that day, my smile was so so wide. It somehow felt good to say out loud that I was not going to become an occupational therapist, and that is how I know I made the right decision. As I skipped home that evening, stopping only to pick flowers and help old ladies cross the street, I realized that I had been trying so hard, all this time, to convince myself that occupational therapy was right for me that it had actually worked for two years. (Incidentally, now how's that for a personal statement booster? "I am so persuasive that I can convince MYSELF of a complete lie for two whole years." Impressive.) For whatever reason, something moved inside of me...something intervened in my life and gave me the courage to accept that my life's passion is not OT. In addition, I somehow had the strength to believe that my passion, though it is really fucking unclear right now and will undoubtedly earn me less money and quite possibly turn me into a homeless person, is worth pursuing. A motif popped into my head on that day and the motif is this: 

NEVER trade passion for security. 

It was a motif so splendid, I just knew that Erin Medin would write it on her cute little framed squares of scrapbooking paper hanging on her wall, reserved for splendid motifs.

So this is a blog celebrating my life after the catalyst that started all these crazy revelations and life changes and uncertainty: my breakup. It sucked real hard, and it still sucks, but I have grown so much in the days that followed and I would never trade the person I am now for the person I was then. This is a blog celebrating the new friends I made who helped me through that beastly event and the wonderful perspective they still contribute to my life. Incidentally, I do not believe that you came into my life in the way that you did by chance. This is a blog celebrating the friends and family I already loved, because you are the reason I have the courage to follow my passion in life. But most of all, this is a blog for recording and celebrating the revelations I continue to have about past occurrences, present struggles, and future direction in my life. Because it's all so beautiful. And I'll drink to that. (As long as you drink with me).

Margaret