Lay down in the rain, the world spins slower

Does anyone dream of mediocrity? Does anyone fantasize about the mundane, the monotony of life? Seemingly, the right answer is no. Why would someone want invariability, a routine life? But I know people like me exist, people who enjoy the stillness of everyday, people who seek it out in film and novels, the representation of a slice of life in an epoch, that similar uniformity in a character. I find that sort of averageness, a hue of normal in a world where everyone is trying to stand out, is refreshing, and it’s comforting. In a sea of people who are constantly trying to outdo one another, constantly trying to shine the brightest, sometimes your eyes are drawn to the dullest star. 

This is not to say that routine is boring; it can become that way if you let it. You must not let it. The commonplace of “everyday” is an art form. An underrated art form. We have placed such a pressure on ourselves, especially those of us suffering under the weight of expectations in our 20s, to become something greater than who we are. We are in such a rush to enter a new period of our lives, to be the next version of ourselves, that we hardly stop to see the art we have in front of us. Look in the mirror, there is the art. Stop for a little, stop and admire it. Who you are today, not the person you aspire to be, is someone still to be admired. How you already shine so bright. 

Jump out of bed, excited to live your life, but don’t rush past the small moments. There is so much to this life that we have skated over, charging through the museum to seek out the Mona Lisa, but in doing so, we have lost the beauty in millions of other moments, art and memories that have been abandoned and ignored. You are so desperate for the final product that you’ve missed the most important part of it all. You’ve missed the breaking down, the building, the failures and the mistakes, the rebuilding, the friends you’ve lost and the new ones you’ve made along the way. Don’t miss out on the journey; it’s what you should remember the most. 

Find it in every corner of your life. Make art out of everything. There is inspiration to be found everywhere. Apologizing. Trying a new restaurant. Making friends after college. Remembering someone’s name after a single mention. A well-timed joke. 3 PM snack time. Cursive. Snoozing your alarm on a Sunday morning. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Calling your mom. Friendship breakups. Rebuilding your life. Fresh strawberries on a summer day. Somehow arriving on time even after you’ve left late. Finding a new favorite song. Allowing silence to fill a conversation. Learning a new language. Immediately giving up on learning a new language. The sound of a cello. The sun on a cold winter morning and the sea breeze on a hot summer afternoon. Holding hands. The smell of coffee. 

I used to envy cats and their nine lives. How lucky they are to be reborn time and time again, to become new and rewrite their mistakes. But soon I realized that I have lived infinitely more than nine lives. I have lost count of how many versions of me have walked this Earth, how many versions of me have listened to the same song and eaten the same foods. The girl I was last fall is not who I am today. I would not be here if it weren’t for her, but I am not her anymore. It’s a bizarre thing to think about, how quickly you morph into this new rendition of yourself; you almost never feel it happening. Sometimes it takes months for this transformation, other times in an instant. 

I think about all the me’s that I have been, and I think about all that I wanted to be when I was growing up. Taller / prettier / whiter / a professional soccer player / Shego / an animator / a pop star but that of Hannah Montana / Alivia’s best friend / not a resident of New Hampshire / shorter / richer / my mother / first seed in tennis / a musician / to be liked by him / better at science / better at writing / wittier / skinnier / an Ivy league student / in Europe / not my mother / a girlfriend / his girlfriend / closer to my sister / shorter / even skinnier / dead / a polyglot / tan / a bigger reader / a computer scientist / a creative / able to do a pull-up / closer to my parents / alive / happier. 

I wish I could say I have become all of these things. I think it is better to say that some of these things were not written in the stars for me, but I am constantly reminded of how I dreamt as a little girl. My aspirations were not far and few between (except for, maybe, the popstar dream). They were all normal, ordinary dreams. Not to say they were boring or lifeless, but ever since then, I knew who I was. I knew what I liked, what I wanted to get out of life. Even as a child, I sought out joy in the regular, romance in the run-of-the-mill. I did not want to see space or walk red carpets. I wanted a life where I woke up excited to live, to be a person excited for their future, excited for their present. 

It’s spring, and you’re young and lovely. It’s spring, and I am here. Come back into the world.