Leaving the luggage.

Everybody's got baggage, whether it resembles that huge suitcase belonging to a family of four on a cramped train ride or a tiny piece of hand luggage on an intercontinental flight.  Either way, we're all going somewhere and inevitably the pieces of our past come with us.  It's a blessing and curse.  You would truly be an idiot if your mistakes didn't alter your actions in some small way.  But you would also be a fool to build up the bitterness until the frown lines on your face become permanent.

I'm ashamed to say I'd forgotten the difference between bitterness and wisdom.  Sometimes there is a fine line.  I was trying to turn my life and people experiences into lessons.  I wanted to become a different person, a new person with a harder exterior to protect the bruises.  So the new people I met were lucky enough to meet the new superficial version.  But soon I began to realise that the actions of the people of my past wasn't the fault of the present people.  I wasn't giving them a fair chance.  But most importantly I realised that the past shouldn't define you.  It doesn't deserve that power.  Of course, it should hold some importance but not riddle your entire existence.  Because you'll miss the best that the present has to offer.

They say live every day to the maximum but that's difficult when waking up to shoulda woulda coulda.  I'm really not helping myself.  And as much as I would like to believe everything happens for a reason, I'm struggling.  So I'm trying to find the wisdom and bury the bitterness.  Because life is too short.  And when some people aren't fortunate enough to get tomorrow, we really should be more grateful for today. 

The Unknown

So it's not worked out as planned: the hunt for a graduate job.  I've been avidly applying and searching for months now with little actual progress made.  I was frustrated, fed up and a little frightened of the uncertainty in my future.  It's been an endless road of panic and worry.  I just knew I needed to get something.  I needed to know what was coming next.  Because from being four years old there had always been the next homework deadline, essay, GCSE, A Level and finally degree.

Education is a gift but also a prison.  And I feel I've been a prisoner of the education system for my entire existence.  So perhaps it was only natural to panic when there isn't a teacher stood at the front instructing you.  Or an essay you need to write. Or an exam to pass.  After May, I become the boss.  I've paid my dues to the institution.  And for the very first time, what comes next is entirely my choice.  This is what freedom feels like.  And the fear is actually just starting to convert to excitement.

Because what you do with your life should be your choice.  I'm only disappointed I've waited 21 years for this opportunity.  The opportunity to write exactly as I choose without the constraints of an essay title.  The opportunity to unleash my own creativity without fear of it being oppressed, condensed or quashed altogether.  The opportunity to go in whichever direction I see fit.  So as much as I feel something will be finished in May, my life is just beginning.

And I've got a newfound appetite.  I want to try red hot chilli's and tamatangas, see the Golden Temple and learn how to meditate, change somebody's life and fall in love the proper way, earn some money, get standing tickets at a concert, find religion, get published....I could go on but that would be telling.

So now I see the focus on becoming employed was so narrow-minded.  And I was a scared little puppy who has finally been let off the leash and wanted to cling to the stability of a nine-to-five job to avoid the fear of the unknown.  But now I find myself staring at the blank space ahead and the only words that come to mind are: 'this is your life now, so what are you gonna do with it?'  Watch this space.

The Sheep and the Shepherd

I would quite like to live in a hotel.  To have the freedom to come and go as you please and the constant changeability of your neighbours.  Having the ability to 'check out' at any time when it all gets too monotonous.  The beds are always made and the bathrooms are always clean.  There is a pleasant impersonal feel.  You are the guest.  Use the facilities and then leave.  Be ready to hand over the keys to the next person.  Because life resembles a hotel.  People come and go.  And material things are just that...things.  When it's time to go, you don't take any items with you.  You leave with what you came with.

I'm currently opposed to living in a house.  Because there is something quite permanent about being tied to a bedroom on a street.  It gives a sense that we have to belong somewhere.  And in my opinion, it's better not to belong.  We should float from one location to the next, absorbing the different noises and smells.  Living and learning.  We were not born to stick to one place or one group of people.  We were meant to be free.  To have the option of dipping our toes into any ocean we please.  And when we find somewhere we might prefer, feeling free to go for a swim.  Treading water is not something we should become accustomed to.  Always keep moving.  Keep learning.  Continue to try new things.

Absorb your surroundings like a sponge.  Travel.  Try.  Taste.  See things for yourself.  Make your own judgements.  And if you have only one rule, let it be to never follow the crowd.  Do what you want and say how you feel.  Because you have something different to bring to the world.  And compromising this would be a tragedy.  After all, no sheep ever changed the world.  So don't be the sheep, be the shepherd.  And treat belongings like the furniture in a hotel.  Useful but of little real value.