What gives?

Last night I was lying on the floor, stretching and looking at the ceiling, thinking “what is my life supposed to be?”
I dream often of traveling and seeing the world and making friends all over the globe, of owning a house in Holland or Spain or Fiji or wherever and living by the water – any kind of water. But I know how exhausting traveling can be – the flights, the hotels, the unknown stresses of language and money and not being home and how would we ever make that work to just get up and go? What about the cat and taxes and rent and jobs and health insurance and bills. WHAT ABOUT HEALTH INSURANCE?
I have moments of bliss at staying still and then moments of feeling absolutely trapped by it. It’s an odd sensation to feel at times like you want to leave everything you’ve built behind and start over. Start over to what? I think the unknown scares me more than anything. What will we do about this and this and this?
It’s hard to know how to make your own path, to not follow the paths that others have made for themselves. And it makes you question – what do I I I I want to do in my life? How do I want to live it. Who decided that we are all supposed to get jobs and pay bills and live as every one else lives? School. More school. College. Job. Marriage. Babies. Babies have babies. Retire. Death.

Every time I have these thoughts I remember a line from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast – a cartoon I grew up with. Belle was always my favorite as a little girl. In the opening scene she’s walking through town and singing about her life. She knows she wants more for herself instead of the things people tell her she wants. And she sings “I want much more than this provincial life.”

It’s silly really. I’m 26 and still have this line ingrained in my brain. But there’s a reason. I suppose even when I was younger I knew I wanted more out of my life. But what does that mean to me? To finally feel at home? To create? To live as an artist? But those are all things in some way or another I’m trying and doing now. And part of me thinks – well what gives?

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