Thoughts From the Airplane

Hello my dearies. Yes, it’s been quite a while since my last post. With the end of my first semester of college, moving out of my apartment dorm, and going on vacation, things have been a little hectic and draining. However, with a nice long vacation in the carribbean, I’m feeling especially refreshed and full of new ideas and thoughts. So, with that being said, I want to tell you all my airplane thoughts.

Over the past week, I’ve taken four plane rides to and from the carribbean. A total of  almost nine hours of air travel. I don’t know if you’ve ever taken an early morning flight, the kind where it’s still dark outside, but it’s quite amazing. There’s something about take off and watching all the lights pass you by then slowly slip away as you leave the ground. To get even more cheesy, I was also listening to David Bowie’s Space Oddity. Somewhere in all of this beauty, I had myself thinking. As the lights of nearby communities slowly slipped away further and further from me, I could only think of how many people lived in those communities.

I thought about how many people were in each one of those thousands of houses that I was flying over. I thought about how each one of those individuals was going to wake up in the next few hours, get dressed and eat breakfast, and then go on with their day doing what they believe they are meant for. Then I thought where do I fit in with all of these people? I know it’s quite a melodramatic question, but haven’t we all thought that at least once in our lives? Where do we fit in with the rest of the world? Well this was my moment. As I watched these unknown people in their unfamiliar homes become invisible through cloud cover, I couldn’t shake the question from my mind.

I still haven’t been able to answer this question. Over the last month, I changed my major to creative writing and my minor to photography and the same question gets asked every time I say this: What are you going to do with a degree in creative writing? I was also asked this question a lot when my major was photography. I know you’re supposed to have an idea in mind as to what you want to be or what you want to do when you finish your college career, but this time last year, I had to ask to go to the bathroom at school. I don’t even know what I want to have for dinner tomorrow night and you’re asking me what I want to do for the rest of my life? Maybe I am being a little dramatic, in fact I know I am, but I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I just want to be happy.

I don’t think people think about their happiness enough. I always ask myself that when I’m eighty years old and sitting in a rocking chair with my cat on my lap, will I be happy with how I’ve spent my life? Yes, I know having a career and being financially stable and all that junk is important, but as a human being you’re allowed to do the things that make you happy. Maybe it’s just me, but I see more people working just to make money rather than working because they were in love with what they were doing. Maybe it’s just me. I’m a firm believer in doing what makes you happy no matter the outcome, unless of course if you put someone’s life in danger. That’s a whole other story and when you get caught doing whatever you’re doing, don’t use my name.

To get back to what I was saying earlier, I have no clue where I fit in with the rest of the world at all and I’m totally content with that. Yes, it’ll be a frustrating, long trek down a foggy, uncertain path, but it’s something I need to do to be happy. Even with the unexpected twists and turns, I intend to smell every rose and gaze at every star in the night sky. You’re probably thinking at this point well that’s just a waste of time but let me tell you something: when I’m eighty years old, sitting in my rocking chair with my cat on my lap, I’ll be able to say I lived my life happily and I can die knowing I did what was best for me.

Who knows, maybe when I’m eighty I’ll still be writing and taking photographs. In fact, I know I will be.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s