I just had one of my many "shower moments" - you know, those epiphanies that seem to creep up on you in your wettest, warmest, most primal moments of living. I think it's because lingering under the almost-painful spray of a hot shower actually throws you into that netherland that we usually only experience as we're falling asleep. It opens up this whole world of awareness that's untappable under the circumstances of daily living. Anyway, I'm still trying to figure out whether these moments of epiphany are legitimate, or if I'd be better off ignoring them. As I lathered up my locks, I realized all of a sudden that I wanted to be a journalist. Ok, so this wouldn't be such a big deal if, say, I hadn't already applied (and gotten into) teacher's college. It also wouldn't be such a big deal if the program I'm interested in wasn't in Toronto (as opposed to Ottawa, where I'm currently living with my fiance who's finishing law school here next year). In short, this realization couldn't have crept up on me at a more inopportune time. Ah, YES, I hear those of who who are insisting that there's always a worse time - like when I'm 85 years old and my life has already passed me by. Point taken. But sometimes we have to look at things from where we currently stand. I'm choosing to do that now, regardless of whether it's short-sighted and narrow-minded of me. Let me indulge in my confusion.
I guess my biggest question right now is "is teaching right for me?" How does one know whether a career path is right for them? Is it bad that I never envisioned myself as a teacher when I was growing up? That it was never a fantasy of mine to stand in front of a classroom of small people? Does that count for anything? What about the fact that I used to spend my spare time making magazines with my friends, and distributing them to the unfortunate family friends who came over for dessert? How much should my childhood interests influence how I approach my career? God knows, magazine journalism would more than likely disappoint me against the backdrop of my juvenile dreams and memories.
Everybody keeps telling me that I can't be afraid to fail - that this fear is what is keeping me suspended in the annals of this post-academic afterworld. My shower epiphany, however, revealed to me what my paralyzing fear really is: It's a fear of disappointment. Fear that I will get my hopes up and that they will be dashed. That's not exactly fear of failure. At least after failure, you get a better idea of how to do things right - you're not catapulted back into your own mind to clutter through the other options that haven't yet disappointed you.
So this is my life right now. I have never been so lost before, ever. The most interesting part is that I am getting married in less than 2 months. I feel like a walking contradiction: The ring on my finger signals to others that I have my shit figured out. That I'm heading somewhere into the future. In my mind, though, that couldn't feel less true. I know that I have figured out one aspect of my life, but what about the other? All of my friends are securely on their ways to realizing their dreams. What good is my future with my fiance if I can't even envision who I might be in that future?
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