To Be Uncertain

Fall in love with a dancer named Eve who has an unpleasant past and beautiful legs. Spend too much time thinking about how life doesn't make sense. Your mom suggests journalism. Your friends suggest Burning Man. You only feel satisfied walking around looking at people. You want to see who looks back and who never looks at all. Understand what you must do. Keep moving toward the next thing. You have a calling, an urge, a delusion, an unfortunate itch. You have, as your mother would say, wasted your life.

Why become uncertain of what to become? What things are there to become? These are questions to ask yourself. For example: why are children forced to work as slaves? Why are women bought and sold for sex? These are questions you carry in your stomach, like butterflies. The make you uneasy and nervous.
Take classes at community college because you live to learn. You feel that it's good for your health. You find sanctuary in sociology. You discover that race, class, and gender inequality are driving forces behind capitalism. Be glad you know these things. Be glad you are not just a machine. Apply to graduate school to study anthropology.

From here on in, many things can happen. But the main one will be this: you decide not to go to graduate school after all, and instead, you spend a good chunk of your adult life working odd jobs and reading books. Somehow you end up writing. Perhaps you find rhythm and order in placing words on paper. Perhaps you settle into life. Perhaps you feel stuck.

You leave your boyfriend of too many years because he prefers porn. Quit your job because your boss is a controlling, manipulative baby. Live on borrowed money. Feel bad you have to pay it back. Tend to the garden. Prepare meals. Do the dishes. Keep looking for what's next.

An opportunity.
An unexpected chance.
A new and wonderful thing.
A bold move.

At home, pet the dog. Eat eggs with fried rice. Think about how the flavors remind you of Saturday mornings with mom, dad, and your brother. Occasionally you sit in a café and stare at people. You try to connect. Your eyes catch his. He walks over. You are eager to talk gender politics. He wants to take you back to his place. You decide that this encounter sucks. You sigh and move on to the busy sidewalk.
Still looking,
still searching for
something else, someone else.

~ Liza Sutterby, "How to Become Uncertain of What to Become"