I’ve been sick, awfully sick, for the past five days and in between feeling sorry for myself and acting like a five-year-old I’ve wondered why. Why do I need to be sick for five days straight, stuck in my tiny room, lying in bed, with no-one’s company except for my own? I’ve seized to believe in coincidences; that this alone time has been forced on me must have been intended as some kind of wake up call.
I woke this morning thinking that I might just be getting better. I managed a trip to the store. The sun was shining, brightening my mood. When I came back home I felt different. I started watching Eat, Pray, Love. I paused the movie after five minutes to write. I realized that I have been so worried about getting a job as a manager, someone in charge, that I didn’t stop to think if I actually wanted to become one.
Now I think that’s where the anxiety I’ve been experiencing these last weeks was coming from; that I was forcing myself to become something I did not want to be. Do I really want to have a stressful job, to what, be able to say that I am successful? Or do I want to live my life, on my own terms, accomplishing my goals without feeling suffocated because I’m chasing someone else’s dream?
I remember when I read Eat, Pray, Love for the first time. It was as if Elizabeth Gilbert had climbed into my head and written her book from there. Everything she wrote felt familiar, though I can hardly say we have much in common, except for seeing the world in a similar light. I admire her for the way she lives her life, unapologetically. Looking at her I can see how I could dream my life into existence. I can stop chasing after plan B and focus my attention on plan A instead. Stop acting like this is what I want. Be honest with myself about what it is that I want. Go from there.
Who knows? I might even write my book one day.