last night i fell upon a blog that made me stop and think. i'm not going to name it because, in a way, i want it to be my special little secret (and the thousands of other followers). i'm also aware that it may not have had an entirely positive effect on me, and i don't want to endorse it to anyone out there who is actually reading this.
in brief, there is a seventeen year old girl who considers herself to be a "gypsy" - a free thinker, a world-traveller, a writer of stories. not that it is relevant, but her father, who left her when she was young, is an indigenous australian. you can hear the influence in her words. she tells these contemporary dreamtime stories about the places she goes and the thoughts that run wild in her mind.
well, this stranger really made me nervous. i started to feel like i am far too conventional and regular, and that, given the opportunity, i could be so much more. i could be a free spirit too. it made me feel a little sad that perhaps i have already set out the structure for my life, and that it is too late to go back and start again. i am already 25, i mean, i should theoretically be in a full time job, earning money, worrying and concerning myself over trivial matters. at least that's what i have been feeling is my "job" in life lately.
but what if i am not meant to stick to convention? what if i am not destined to sit in a lifetime job as a teacher, or a producer, or a whatever. a big part of me is feeling right now that i am trapped in a culture that doesn't allow these thoughts or behaviours. i mean, what if i were to pick up right now and just leave, hop on a bus that takes me out to the desert and see what i felt like doing once i got there? even writing things like that down on my screen, i start to feel a bit silly. a bit silly and a lot sad. because i know i will never, i could never do something like that.
but the truth is, before i even address any of these feelings that i didn't know i had deep down in the pit of my stomach, i must do myself the justice of tying up loose ends. it's all good to be light-hearted and comment on my surroundings with a smirk as i have been doing, but i feel like i am missing the point. i am writing this blog not for the benefit of someone else, who might have a giggle or enjoy the pictures, but for me. rebecca. the girl who is lost in a sea of conventions. and i have to find myself. and as i sit here, on the verge of tears, having great difficulty swallowing air, i am trying to believe that i can blog my way out of here. i can use words and stories and pictures to get a leg up and, that maybe one day, i will pop my head out of the darkness and feel the warm glow of sunshine on my skin. and then i will know who i am and how i fit in to all of this.
this has all become very stream-of-consciousness. and for that i don't apologise. if you are wading through my words and feel the same way, or feel something, or it sparks an understanding deep down in the pit of your stomach, then please, do something. frighten yourself or go and get lost on your own or say something out loud that has been sitting in your throat for too long. because we all deserve to think freely, speak freely, act freely, and just be freely. at least every now and again.
today i am plucking up courage. i have phoned the dingbat at monash (again) in the hopes that this time he may return my call. and all day yesterday as i waited for my phone to ring, my heart kept dropping down into my pelvis, and it would take a minute or so to find its way back up to its proper place. that's still happening today, as i wait again, but it helps to have said what i needed to say just now. if monash is a no-go, i will have already applied for a job that seems to have been made for me. and if that's a no-go, then i will come back to the board. i will breathe deeply, and i will reboot (even free spirits need a bit of carrie b).
and that's all i have to say for now.
-- R.
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