Exciting Times

It was a Saturday like others when i sat down to read Exciting times by Naoise Dolan. I had finished a couple of days before Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and although I had loved it, as I knew I would, I didn't quite feel the pull towards the story as I did when reading the first pages of this Irish novel. Do not get me wrong, for the story of Harry Potter, despite its' authors wrongs, will forever be a cherished story for me because of all the memories built around it, like branches to a tree trunk which never truly fades away.

And then I realised something. I read the first 50 pages so fast because in the voice of a 20 something lost withing the compound of her extremely normal life is like looking through the mirror of my own deprecating self, living the very normal life of a 26 year old. Lost, confused, in love, heartbroken, angry, found, peaceful but most of all, growing out of her mistakes and learning to unlearn and discover who she wishes to become, not only for her self, but also for her past self.

You see, I am trying to do this thing where I slowly begin to accept my life as it is, accepting the small beautiful things, the normal and the not so beautiful things that define it as a great life. But let us be honest for a minute, it is bloody hard thing to do.

There is no perfect or predefined remedy to instantly feel more in tune and in harmony with one's wishes, so I guess, at the end of the day, I need to get myself out there and come back, step by step, to what makes me happy.

1. I can nearly wear the red Dress, but am I happy now ?

I have explained in the article below what the Red Dress meant for me and why it felt important not to get rid of it.

But writing this article, I never thought of : will wearing this dress automatically makes me happy ? Will it give me back, as though magically, the confidence that i wore around myself when wearing the red dress a couple of years ago?

Because now that more than a year has passed since writing the article, I no longer worship her but I still see her as a goal. Yet, I cannot help myself but wonder; isn't it a bit toxic and unhealthy to view what is my past as a goal for what I want for my future ?

So she sits there, between other clothes, looking at me every morning. And I look at her every morning and I still do not know what to do with her. I guess, it is also fine that way.

2. I am tired of waiting on people to do things that make me happy

It must have been a simple, common Thursday last May when I was hit with the realization: I am tired of waiting on people to do things, to go places where I want to go. And I thought: why should I ?

As a result of this incredibly liberating thought, I booked myself the trip to Italy I had not make the previous summer and my sister and I went to Scotland to do the Road trip we had been talking about for months.

Not waiting on people to rekindle the fire that you always knew was burning within you reminded me of the ecstasy one feels when your feet finally touch the sand and the ocean after hours spent travelling and anticipating the feeling.

And what I am left with today is the excruciating need for more. But then I remembered: I do not have to wait on people to do something about it... My birthday coming up in September, I therefore decided to gift myself with a travel.

3. Why don't you f****** write anymore ?

Pardon me for being so straightforward but this question has been stuck in my mind for so long that I do not have the patience with myself to be nice about it. I have always known that writing was part of what I wanted as defining traits of my being. Yet, I keep putting it aside, wishing to find it again, but unconsciously leaving it to perish on the side of every road I decide to take.

So while being on the road in Scotland, I have written every single day in my travel journal. Not only did I write everyday what we had done and experienced, but I have also written a full page of how I felt and a poem each day.

To conclude this article, I will leave a small reminder, not only to myself but I guess for you too. Although I wish to believe in magic, I cannot pretend that there is a small magical potion somewhere that I will cure all my doubts and pains. The only magical potion in which I will need to put my trust in is the beauty of the intricacies of life. I owe it to myself to keep on trying to find greatness in the small things to transform the bigger picture into something more exquisitely enjoyable.

Why shouldn't I ? Why shouldn't you ?

With all my love,

Always,

B.