From the Vault of Soapbox Ramblings, I bring you: "Lost"

I spent most of 2007 lost.

In Sabrina, she says “I found myself in Paris.” Linus Larrabee responds playfully, “You were lost?” And Sabrina answers solemnly, “Yes.”

This lost bit is no joking matter.

Maybe you have been a bit disillusioned, maybe even a little lost before? Maybe you have thought of how other paths could have been easier, or at least more enjoyable? Maybe you debate the nobility of your choices? Maybe you feel like you have sacrificed some control in what you spend your time doing and where you do it, and who you do it around? Just so you know, it is my opinion that we struggle with these types of issues because of our depth, and our desire to be helpful and relevant to others. We want to feel genuinely good about how we lead our lives. We are some of those special, tormented people, who want to ensure that we make our life choices with thoughtful consideration.

In Sabrina, the girl goes to Paris and is “found” how? The story is brilliant, but really, what is it that she learned? A bit about photography, a bit about journaling, a bit about French leisure. She “found herself,” but she didn’t find a profession, a man, or any kind of real vocational purpose. It is stories like this that I will enjoy over popcorn with my daughter someday, and right when it ends, with Linus passionately kissing Sabrina on a Parisian bridge, I will take my daughter’s face in my hands, and tell her “Her life is not over, you know. She still has more to find. Just because he’s around doesn’t mean she’ll never be lost again.”

And that’s the trouble with my favorite stories. They equate romantic love with complete fulfillment. And it is not just perpetuated in the form of books, movies, t.v., commercials, magazines, etc. Some of my very own girls sell it, too. It is as if an entire generation of post second wave chicks have entirely forgotten what was paved for us. We have questions to answer. Big questions! And the answer is never as simple as a man’s name.

I have been bothered by these big questions for a long time now. Having descended from a long line of ambitious and thoughtful women, who also happen to be queen worriers (not warriors, this was not a typo!,) the big decisions are tough.

I realized that the more passions you possess, the more you want to experience and contribute—and how are we to satisfy them all with one life’s worth of decisions? Time for anecdote:

Third grade art assignment: “Create an adult puppet of yourself. Include a picture of the house where the adult puppet lives.”

Third grade Abbey stressed.

I remember spending hours in my childhood bedroom contemplating “Adult Abbey.” She ended up as a very smiley blonde-headed girl on a stick with weighted felt arms drenched in glue. She carried a little pencil, paintbrush, book, gavel, microphone, briefcase, and baseball mitt. She wore farmer’s over-alls and ballet shoes. Her house had pine trees on one side and palm trees on the other.

I remember my teacher saying something ridiculously irrelevant like, “She sure has to carry a lot to do whatever it is she does.” Which, has evolved into quite the self-fulfilling prophecy seeing that now I do carry a lot to do whatever it is I do.

What I’m getting at is that I believe I, as most of our generation, was socialized to think that there is a time when certain things—material and not, are attained, and then, you are a grown-up. You carry your props, look the part, sound the part, find the mate, find the home, and you are there. (This is especially stressed to the girls. Look like what you want to be, find the man you want to look at, then look! Have a baby, and with each mortgage and diaper check, know all your boxes are checked off, as well.)
Play life like trivial pursuit. Fill in the pie.

Well, what if I want several pies? What if I can’t pick a flavor…what if I over cook the first three? You are beginning to understand what kind of confused analogies ruled 2007.

I genuinely expected something to turn on inside me after I graduated, or moved away from home, or lived with a boyfriend, or had a 9 to 5 job. And each time it didn’t, I thought “Oh, once I get the next piece filled I’ll feel differently.”

While I am now the age where I must answer at least some of “the big questions” (Where will I live? What will I do? Who will I spend my life with? How will I know if any of it is right?) I have decided that I am I going to ask and answer the questions in my own way.

I refuse to ask them as multiple choice questions. I will not check boxes, or fill in blanks, I will not put on a hat and call it my identity, nor will I marry a man and lose my own. I will not, any longer, talk and think about who I am in nouns.

It may sound all very silly and particular to you…but I have found great comfort in thinking about things this way. I will live somewhere safe and lovely and work by doing something I find creative and meaningful. I will spend my time with people who inspire, challenge, and comfort me, and I’ll know it will be right because it will make me feel good.

When I was young I pictured what I would look like as an adult, but never considered what I would feel like. In reality, I feel exactly the same. I love books and making new friends, and I mostly look forward to Sundays and Tuesdays because that’s when I play softball.

It was not until quite recently that I have finally understood what professors, parents and friends have meant when they said things like “It’s the journey, not the destination” or “It’s the little moments and the little decisions that count.” They all sounded like clichés to comfort undetermined people. I was going somewhere, damnit, and I was going to have big moments and big decisions! I was going to live big!

The only looming question that remained was, “When the hell would that Big Life begin?!”

(I was a big idiot.)

Finally, I came along this quote, and it struck me. I shared it with a friend who told me that it seemed terribly cynical. For some reason I found great insight and support in it. I don’t know who said it, but I’m grateful. Maybe it will speak to you, too.

"For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin...real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one."
Since I’ve reached this resolution, I am a calmer, happier, more balanced person. I am still on my way to achieving what may or may not always be my dreams, and, most importantly,
I am no longer feeling lost.