sure-I’m-happy-enough

Woke up and felt like writing

Was just sitting here,

Surrounded

By thoughts and love notes

Scribbled on notepad paper

During work, while riding on public transportation…

Wondering:

What makes you want to breathe?

And then,

Breathe again?

If you’re passionate for what you do,

How did this passion begin?

And can you help me spark mine?

 

Positive to a fault

I’ll never say I’ve hit rock bottom

But I have nothing left to lose

All that’s left to do is choose

The path my life will take next

 

So what makes you want to breathe?

And then,

Breathe again?

Because sometimes

I just want to exhale it all out

And call it a day,

Forget of the wasted time

and all my tragic mistakes

 

Finally following my heart

But I’m without compus

Unsure of where I’m going

Or where I’ll end up;

But if I could find a passion,

My life’s oxygen

I’d no longer have to fear

Running out of the desire to breathe

And then,

Breathe again

Without a final exhale

Without settling

for a mediocre,

sure-I’m-happy-enough

sort of life.

 

 

 

These doubts are so vain, they probably think this post is about them

I don’t usually doubt myself.

Not because I’m incredibly aware of my strengths, and certainly not because I think I can do absolutely anything, but because I feel that so long as I give my best, there can be no failure.

But every now and then, on days like today, I panic. Although I can handle “failing” in certain aspects of my life (I have a clear understanding of the incredibly flawed human being I am), I sometimes have trouble accepting the fact that my absolute best might be, for some, a complete and utter failure. Then I doubt my strength, which I know is fragile. The exhaustion from days and nights of cramming, learning, outlining, highlighting, practice-exam taking and flash-carding, combined with the fear that my absolute best may not be enough, makes me seep to the floor and question everything. What if, after all, I am not good enough, bright enough, for these law folks?

The idea of failing itself is not what is so scary to me. What scares me more is the thought of not having the courage to do anything else. And so lacking in courage, I keep failing at being something I invested so much in, simply because that’s what a responsible adult is supposed to do. Right? Investment backed expectations! The first little cloud of doubt sprouts from somewhere in my mind and begins to waltz above my head.

Big life questions. We all have them. And sometimes, I promise you, it’s ok to leave them unanswered.

So I’m still, I sit and let the clouds of doubts, now in numbers, hang above me.

Maybe I’ve failed because my absolute best just wasn’t good enough. Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be, or maybe I’m made in a way that isn’t meant for all this. I don’t know. I won’t know tomorrow, and possibly not even months after that. And that’s ok.

Not all wanderers are lost, and not all lost want to be found. The same way that not all those who fail give up, and not all who give up fail.

So let your doubts hang, suspended in beautiful silence. Let them swing from side to side, languidly, until one day, they just disappear. Not because you gave up or gave in, and not because you failed either; not because you found yourself, because what does that even mean? You won’t ever find another you that’s more you than the you sitting there right. now. The doubts, however, they will disappear- the moment you give them a slight acknowledgment and a dash of consideration.

Because, as it turns out, doubts are about as vain as we humans are.