Being The Part

There are times I find myself wondering about all the “what if’s” that have passed through my mind.

What if my back didn’t herniate, would I have become a cop as planned?

What if they weren’t as cruel or disapproving, would I have continued onto my master's in teaching?

What if I never chose that second minor, would I have still set foot on my path toward redemption and service?

What if I allowed my throat to collapse in fear and my mind to freeze when I’m faced with false evidence appearing real?

What if?

What if?

I haven’t lived that long. 24 years is too short to lay claim to any of life’s major lessons. At least that’s what I am told.

Though I have been given many privileges throughout my short time breathing, I have also been presented with my obstacles and awarded my own triumphs and that should allow me to contribute to some of life's greatest conversations.

Where, though, do my opinions belong?

Certainly not on the internet where people are with their fears and shame and guilt and lies waiting to project all over me and my parade.

Certainly not to that friend whom I would lay my life down for, because she, too, does not recognize the volatility of her beliefs and the toxicity of her pessimism.

Certainly it does not belong with my parents from whom I have learned the fragility of finances as well as the frivolity of “there’s always more where that came from.”

Where, then, do I belong?

If not in the restaurant industry where I learned that playing pretend is more important than being myself . . .

If not in the classroom up front teaching young minds of the culture and language I grew to respect over one committed decade . . .

If not in the space between spaces where my mind can roam free with adventures and people who would not exist if I had not discovered their voices . . .

Where, then, do I belong?

Two years of reading, of studying, of learning who I am and why I am here and I still I have no clear answer.

There are times, though, that I feel I have found them.

Whenever I find myself smiling childishly down at my page with my pencil scribbling quotations and teasing a teenage romance —

Whenever I become a slave to words and oblivious to time as my eyes devour page after page after glorious page until there are no more pages to devour and I am left to close my eyes and sit wishing there was another chapter —

Whenever I am dancing wildly to clear the energy before settling in and with my Creativity —

Whenever I stroll nature in a deafening silence and gawk at Her natural beauty and am sucker-punched into remembering that I need to take better care of Her —

Whenever peace and bliss and creativity and music and sunshine and worlds collide, those are the times I feel I may have found my answers.

But what about outside those times?

Where, then, do I belong if I wasn’t meant to steep in surrender to Creativity and Her royal inspiration?

There are times I wonder if other people feel the same way. If there are people searching for their why’s and waiting for their answers. And I wonder more if these are the same people who have given up on passion and purpose and life.

Then I remember, they are not the same. Because those searching for their why’s have not given up on the possibility of hope and still think to themselves “there has to be a better way.” While those who have fallen in fear do not recognize that they even have a why.

And I realize with relief and resolve that I am the first and not the latter. I am reminded of my lessons and find solace in remembering that I am here for a life of service.

I am meant to serve myself. Daily reminders to live with joy and to choose to be happy over being right. To be grateful to live and breathe in creativity and purpose and share this passion with the world online in spite of those who may not agree with who I choose to be.

I am meant to serve others. Daily publications of inspiration born from my creative center, and encourage creators to be unapologetic, unafraid, and completely authentic.

It is my divine responsibility to share what I have with the world. My books, my poetry, my music, my inspiration. My heart.

It is my responsibility to inspire others to step into their power and explore life with passion and discover their own purpose.

There are times I find myself wondering about where I belong in this world.

Then I remember, that I do not belong anywhere.

I am simply meant to be.