I think it all comes down to this: safety versus risk. Isn't that what life is all about?
Safety: a teaching job, a mortgage, a marriage, health insurance, a retirement plan, having children.
Risk: an MFA program.
I try as hard as I can to imagine myself in the future: What am I doing? If I squinch my eyes up tight enough, can I see what I'm doing, become a crystal ball?
(I love the idea of me in a musty office one day, books piled up to the ceiling, a manuscript scribbled over, coffee stains on the desk.)
(I also love the idea of me with finger paints on my fingers, crouched down on the ground with wee ones, my husband's hand on my shoulder, not fretting over an investment plan, simply being every day.)
Is there a way for both? Maybe not both-at-once, but both, eventually? I'm always so anxious for life to start when life is always starting, and restarting. It's not even that, entirely--just the knowing of what the next step will be, what shape I will make in the future.
Clarity has its purpose, its comforts. Knowing that I have options is good too.
CK Williams: "Risk." (Wish I could find the whole poem online, but there is a bit for you here.)
15 hours ago