What It's All About

Sometimes, I have these truncated moments where I think "this is what it's all about." And then my ice cream topples over, my Metrocard runs out, and the strap on my bag breaks. But, nonetheless, while I'm standing on the corner of 104th and West End clutching the tiny hand of a five-year-old, life seems to make sense for a second. If nothing else, I think that at least I can try to make this one little person's life better, easier, sweeter. Even if she's only five. Even if she doesn't notice the flaming sunset over Riverside Park like I do. Even if she's more involved in eating her lemon sorbet than I am in the thoughts of people I once knew.

I think, even at 24, this is why I desperately hope to (ONE DAY) have children- so that, in some cosmic chain of people, I will know that I made a difference. Not just hope that I make a difference, not just believe the hippy-crap that "we all can make a difference" (even if we can), but to know that I am doing something in this universe for someone other than myself. Know, inherently and undeniably, that my life means more than just my life. Because in the grand scheme of things, my little life is, well, little. And I am so unmistakeably aware of that fact.

I have been up and down and floating in and out so much lately- but then, when I think about it, this is how I've always been, just sometimes more up or more down more often. Anyhow, I know I have been working harder than I ever have before, harder even than the summer I worked and went to school often from 8 am to midnight. Because unlike crappy campus jobs and food service and even school, I actually have to use lots of brain power doing what I do now. Brain power, and organization, and damn if it's not excruciatingly hard to keep myself enthusiastic and motivated to do all these multiple jobs at once. I think, Life is hard. And then I think, no it's not- I mean, yes it is- but, compared to many in this city my life is a cakewalk. A cakewalk in the park. A cakewalk in the park in the sun. So, I keep going, hoping that when I "get it together" (whatever IT is), all the pieces will fall into place and I will become who I am destined to be. Which, not unlike the question in your previous post, is thus far a total mystery. Our purpose(s)? Our destiny? Questions not meant to be answered at the moment.

I'm reading this great book about a woman who, for lack of a better description, travels around the world to "find herself" (among other things). She also happens to be a travel writer so this situation works out for her. I'm at the part of the book where she is at an Ashram in India, spending 4 months intensely meditating and seeking God. And, also, like most of us, her purpose. It sounds (again, for lack of a better description), divine. I just hope to God I can answer my own questions without having to spend 4 months in India (which would be amazing, but I lack the book advance this woman had to pay for it).

Maybe I am answering my own questions. Maybe you can too. Maybe sometimes we just need a violent sunset and a tiny hand. Or maybe we just need someone who needs us.

xoxoxoBon