the whimsy of it all

Over the past few months, this interviews season has got me reflecting a lot about how I have changed over the years. In some ways, I feel like I’ve changed a lot. because four years ago I was deeply involved in religion and church, I poured my heart and soul into volunteering because I thought service was the most important contribution I could make, and I often thought about who I wanted to marry and build a life with. I prayed every night and couldn’t fall asleep at night if I didn’t. I listened to TED Talks and read scriptures every day in hopes of gaining something that would make me a better person, a person who is more worthy of the life I had. 

Since I left the church, I have had moments where I feel free and joyful that I can continue to do the things that I love without the additional mental load of representing and defending a religion that i never fully felt a part of. Other days I feel unproductive and lost without the demanding structure of religion. 

This past week I reread this blog that I haven’t touched since college. Journaling had become so intertwined with church for me that I didn’t really want anything to do with it after I left. What used to be one of my anchors no longer appealed to me. But it isn’t just church. My life has also been consumed by grad school, I don’t have time to do much of anything except work myself to the bone and recover. Sometimes it makes me sad that I used to accomplish so much in a day and now I feel like that flow and sense of accomplishment doesn’t really happen anymore. And then there’s the random bursts of joy I used to have—on long runs through the city in the early morning hours or at night in the quiet of campus, when I'd pick up random volunteer gigs just to learn random things and meet random people, photo shoots, exploring random parks. I don’t really do those things anymore and I wonder when I stopped. 

Over the past four years, my life has changed so much. I was physically healthy or at least blissfully unaware and now I’m not. I was independent and bold, now I’m often scared. I was optimistic and motivated, now less so. 

I don’t really know how to get it back. The whimsy of it all. Maybe this is just what getting older is like. Or the fact that I am chronically online and feeling scrutinized. 

But as I laughed and cried to the words of my younger self, I realized something. I want it back. I don’t want to be bored or boring, moving through life purposelessly. I don’t want to be scared of getting hurt. 

maybe i'll start writing again and get back to my ability to make my self laugh and cry in the same page. i guess i can start there because writing is inherently whimsical. because thinking that anyone other than me would sit down and read these random thoughts is delusional. and if we can't be delusional, what do we have?