Photo from a country walk - the way I chose to celebrate my 25th
I'm taking time this evening to banish an odd feeling that's been creeping up on me. It began with my birthday and has filtered on through other occasions when I've felt like maybe my reactions aren't quite 'right'; maybe I'm out of sync with expectations of how a 25 year old should think/feel/act.
When I choose the quiet things, when I'm self-controlled, when I love in other-worldly, unfashionable ways and the anecdotes of my wild times are few and far between, the beginnings of a fear I haven't felt since I was a teenager resurfaces a little: am I interesting enough?
The difference between my teens and my twenties is now I know how to put the question to one side. I know how to rummage around inside of myself and find some truths to set me free:
"Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life." - Galatians 6v4-5 TM (the Bible)
Regardless of how sedate the sum total of my existence may seem from the outside, I know its realities. I know the 'because' behind each experience of intense peace and soul-stillness. I know the inconsequential triggers, like learning something new, that make joy radiate through me with a kind of uncontainable delirium. I know the loves I live and die for every single day.
When I feel passed over by other people or on the verge of being ashamed that I'm not more like someone else, I've learned to let them be them and I'll be me.
My life is interesting enough for me. And that's enough.