One Life To Live

Every chance we get, Tommy and I send each other an email reminding one another, and ourselves, that we only have one life to live. The thing I treasure most about our friendship is the way we both see the world as an opportunity for exploration. He makes me feel a little less crazy than I assume I am.

In his latest email he reminded me that we only have one life, one mind, one soul, and if those are happy, why should anything else matter? I know that I’ve always believed that, but something about hearing it from him made me so utterly aware of its truth. It is so true.

My first assignment in college was to write a page about where I want to be in ten years. It sounds lame I know, and at the time I wondered why my first real homework in college was the same assignment I’d had in the fourth grade, but looking back, I’m grateful for it. My idea for my future was the same at age eighteen as it had been eight years earlier. I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to live in a small town where everyone knew everyone else, where all the neighborhood children would come over to my house to play with my own children, where everything was simple and certain.

Part of me still wants that life, but not until much later days. Maybe I’ll never get there. That idea has moved so far down on my list of what I want my future to look like, that I often forget it’s on the list at all. I want so much more than that.

I grew up with very few expectations. My parents emphasized the importance of being polite, friendly and loving, but beyond that, my requirements were minimal. When I tried hard in school, it was always more for my teacher’s approval than it was for my parents or my own. When I took on leadership roles it was for my friends. When I participated in extra curricular activities it was about being involved in the community more than having something to put down on resumes. I never really felt forced to do anything.

I both love and hate that in retrospect. I hate that I have trouble sticking with anything I dislike. I hate that sometimes I feel as though I’m only living for me. I hate the responsibility that comes from having my entire life be of my own making. Sometimes independence can be a real curse. It’s strange, but somehow having a lack of rules forced me to create my own. I am actually, almost overly responsible for the most part. I was always safe and sound minded. I never became that wild, party child that my siblings had all tried at some point in their lives. I made the choice to take control of my life.

Now, I’m beginning to set myself free. I’m allowing myself to let go of some of those rules and expectations I forced upon myself. I AM living for me, but I’m learning to see it as a blessing rather than a curse. It’s ok to be a little selfish. It’s ok to stop worrying so much about what other people think. It’s ok to make drastic decisions to fulfill the hunger for life within me. It’s ok to love my independence. I love that I can follow my heart. I love that I can do whatever makes me happy, because being happy is what makes my existence worthwhile.

That “straight path” life isn’t for me, and I know that. I have only one life, one mind, one soul, and I intend to do everything in my power to make them extraordinary. In the words of my favorite poet, Mary Oliver, “I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.” In the words of my best friend, Tommy, “if you are happy, why does anything else matter?” I know that it doesn’t. I’m not just visiting, I’m living, and it’s ok that I’m dedicating my life to me. We only have one life to live. Enjoy it.