Life is Full of Decisions . . .

Zen time via 'Redwood 502'

Life is full of decisions.  This is not any type of revelation or secret admission of truth; rather, it is an obvious fact for any of us out there living and breathing in the free world.  I think that most of my fellow young adults would agree that the decisions of life become much more acute following graduation.  Where to live, what job to take (or pursue), what to do with each moment now that it is not regulated by any combination of class, work or athletic schedule and the age old adage “what should I do with my life” are among the questions we face each day.  Aside from the obvious influences such as family, friends, significant others, a perfect job offer etc,, how is one supposed to go about making the “right” choice?  For me, I have noticed that throughout my long 23 years of life there have been critical decision points as well as everyday choices in which I have felt distinctly at peace with (as well as those that I still languish over despite knowing that regret is a painfully fruitless emotion).  When you hear the phrases, “follow your gut” or “listen to your heart” they may sound just a bit cliché; however, I happen to be a big believer in the ability to follow intuition down the best path in life.  From my college choice to the handling of current and past daily situations, to my inability to really figure out my life ambition(s) and my restlessness no matter what city I live in I have found this proverbial peace of mind somewhat elusive.  When I think back to my childhood I feel as though I lived by the adolescent seat of my pants, made decisions on a whim and somehow landed on my feet feeling both assured and blissfully ignorant of what could have been if I had chosen otherwise.  It has been since I quit soccer in high school after 12 years of playing in order to run cross country(heavily influencing where I went to school/who I now know/my current employment status etc) that I felt as “right” about a critical decision.  This is not to say that I haven’t been happy wherever I go; it is not as though I don’t wake up every day thankful for what I have and for the opportunities that surround me; and it is certainly not as though I am sad or depressed.  Rather, I have a restlessness and a certain disquiet about that me that I cannot seem to shake.  I think that it may be partially due to an increased level of awareness of just how many options there are out there.  In daily encounters as well as through my years working within various fine dining establishments I have the habit of always striking up conversation with people and inquiring as to what they do with themselves, how they got there and do they enjoy it.  It is truly fascinating (to me) the path of mazes that take people to their present position(s).  Some good, some bad, some planned (you know, those that knew from conception that they were going to be a doctor/teacher/firefighter etc etc) and some a combination of happenstance and shit luck.  Regardless, I always consider what it would be like to follow a similar avenue as I forever seek that one conversation or bit of influence that leaves with a new found sense of clarity.  I am confident that I could do nearly anything that I set my mind to- I have never in my life had a problem achieving a set goal due to my determined, competitive and persistent nature.  However, a serious problem arises when no end goal exists.  I have struggled (and continue to struggle) to define what it is that I wish to be doing 5, 10 or 15 years down the road.  I have allowed myself to stress about this “life plan” (or lack thereof) beyond a reasonable measure for some time now.  I am slowly coming to the realization that perhaps I am going about it all wrong.  You can’t force things.  And it certainly doesn’t do a damn thing to stress out about anything in which you have very little control over.

 I just made a recent trip home to Pittsburgh and for the first time in a very, very long time I had that feeling of “right.”  For anyone that really knows me this is likely a huge surprise as my family is oftentimes, a bit um, how shall I say, a “unique challenge” to be around.  I love my family to death, but I have in the past fled (both physically and mentally) from the troubles and stresses that are our own.  I really don’t know what it was- the family trip to Bonnaroo, being around my mom for a few days, having the hyperbaric chamber arrive (so much more on this to come), being around Ben (a novel in his own right) or perhaps just spending time staining decks and doing some maintenance on the home I grew up in.  Something triggered an inherent desire to be there, at least for a few months, and see if I can do anything positive.  Someone told me once that in order to help my family I should be “a catalyst.”  At the time this was suggested to me I scoffed at the thought.  Now, I think that if I am able to keep myself together and continue to pursue my dreams (I have 2304892390 lines in the water) while also being a positive force at 516 Sandra that a fair amount of good could come from it. 

The timing seems just about right in all ways.  I have been in Miami for nearly 4 months.  I enjoy much of it, have met a ton of great people, think that it is a beautiful place, but truthfully- I am nearly over it.  Zero regrets as I would have always wondered “what if” had I just taken the job in Charleston, SC and never experienced Miami.  In my opinion, life is largely about people and experiences.  Who you meet and what you do seem to be the two biggest influencers on perspective, decisions and general attitude.  I will likely chalk Miami up as one of those life experiences. As I write this I have a vague shadow of a plan forming in my head as to how I would go about transitioning some 2000 miles north.  As it is just taking form, I will leave my plan and the thoughts that go along with it for a future post.  For those of you who have made it to the end, thank you for reading.  Until next time, best wishes from Miami.