“it takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” – e.e. cummings
it’s a funny thing. thinking about what exactly we’re made of [genetics, blood, sinew] and how those little particles play into the bigger picture of who we become. it’s an even funnier thing to think about whether or not we were already destined to become something. who i was. who i am now. who i will be. whether it is encoded somewhere – anywhere – that i would like double short americanos from starbucks, or enjoy writing and music and seeing women who can’t walk well in high heels. why, for example, i consistently ‘feel’ like my life needs to go in a different direction than where it currently is. like the little golden bees and orbs floating through and composing my blood and tissue all have a compass with a predetermined ‘north’ that leads me a certain way. a way i don’t really understand, however know i must go.
a vast city of experiences and feelings and people. just waiting for me to explore it.
the bees and orbs guide me – they’re natives – and i stumble around my life like a tourist, trying to get the map out of my fanny pack and having forgotten to rub in the line of sunscreen on my nose. i walk down alleyways – a brief stint at the wrong job, a relationship that never would have worked, dying my hair black – and the bees wait patiently at the mouth of the alleyway, insisting that i come back and continue down the right street.
it’s a beautiful feeling. knowing that i’m not in this alone. that all the electricity and the warmth i feel in my life is generated – at least in part – by the buzzing of thousands of little bees who know me better than i know myself. and, ultimately, know where i need to go and how to get there. who can wink at me and smile when the grumpy, old organ that is my brain tries to barge in with his cane and old man sweaters, demanding to know why i made a particular decision and all i have to say is ‘i don’t know, really. and i’m at peace with that’.