this week i was reminded of a blog post i wrote,
on a september day 4 years ago.
a memory of a different point in my journey,
but with such reminiscent feelings.
*******
choices | september 3, 2014
there has been a definite chill in the air
since the calendar page turned to september.
and it’s raining today.
cold. dark. dreary.
as i write, i realize how this weather profoundly affects me.
even though i’m warm and cozy inside, bundled up in fleece,
i feel unmotivated, unproductive.
i am sorry to see the summer end.
i crave sunshine and warm temperatures.
for me, winter means entering a darker time.
literally, figuratively.
i know this about myself.
but, in two and a half weeks, i will be in chile.
the fifteenth country to cross off my list.
i’m headed to the southern hemisphere where it will soon be spring.
a time of renewal.
a clever seasonal reversal trick to delight my senses.
to wake my creativity back up.
and i feel giddy with anticipation.
not only because it’s interesting and inspiring to explore a new place.
but because i’ll be doing what makes me happy.
making choices that suit me.
i opened an email the other day that discussed being weird.
i grew up in a small town where not fitting in was noticed.
i did all of the traditional stuff.
but, despite my best attempts to belong, i was often labeled weird.
i left right after graduation.
went on to college, assorted jobs, marriage, two kids.
i had several failed experiments with conformity.
and then i began wholeheartedly embracing my differences.
thoughts and behaviors that once seemed confusing and unsettling to me.
i even told one of my sons recently that i now consider it a compliment
when someone calls me weird.
current circumstances find me temporarily back in my little home town.
and i suppose my family and i are anomalies here.
we have no permanent residence.
this house is a stop-off point, a home base in between journeys.
i get this itch to move on after three or four months in one place.
we’re not very involved in local activities.
my kids have been homeschooled, the second mostly unschooled.
my older son is attending what i call “uncollege.”
he designs and implements his own curriculum.
piecing together courses with experts in his field as instructors and advisors.
he earns money through computer graphics projects and tap dancing.
in spite of very high SAT scores and an excellent academic record,
he has chosen another path.
my younger son is an avid survivalist hiker and serious landscape photographer.
he is almost always outside, immersing himself in both pursuits.
he is also continuously designing and building – currently radio controlled airplanes.
because he needs ample time to dedicate to his passions,
he has chosen another path.
my husband and i work diligently on our individual entrepreneurial ventures.
we also spend time researching enticing locations around the globe.
and then we dream and devise and plot and plan our future travel.
we’ve each chosen another path as well.
i love my family’s choices.
i love my life.
but truthfully?
sometimes it is difficult.
sometimes it is a lonely highway.
sometimes i grow tired of how we are received.
trying to survive being different in a world of accepted same.
we don’t always do the expected.
and people are frequently unsure how to process that.
family members, friends, acquaintances often do not understand our motives.
or our decisions.
we have no loyalty to sports teams, universities, religion of any kind.
and we have moved and traveled so often that we have no real roots.
however, we have chosen this path.
freedom and flexibility are extremely important to us.
yet we are often misunderstood.
and not usually celebrated.
“do you think he’ll ever go to college?”
“when will you settle down somewhere?”
“is he meeting all of his school requirements?”
“how do you work with clients?”
“where are you from? where are you from?”
no.
hopefully never.
yes.
online.
everywhere. nowhere.
trying to survive being different in a world of accepted same.
once in awhile i feel pangs of jealousy.
curiously, i am not envious of any specific experiences.
but rather of the kudos one gets when following the conventional, preordained path.
on the flip side, i am often met with inquisitive looks and many many questions.
apparently my life, straying out of the norm, can be a quite puzzling affair.
that’s okay though.
there are people close to us who do understand, who do applaud us.
and i don’t need external reassurance anyway.
i revel in my ability to choose my own path.
i am happy.
happy doing my own thing.
happy to be weird.
*******
and now, of course,
my story has changed once again.
i am an empty-nester,
living in another country.
yet i still identify
with so much in this passage.
feeling different, doing “weird” things.
a forever part of my existence.
and guess what?
it’s still okay.
we’ve all carried these feelings.
we’ve all felt dissimilar, different at times.
how have you taken your personal story,
filled with the choices you’ve made,
and transformed it into something unique?
how are you happier, stronger, more purposeful as a result?
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