Recently I’ve been having a bit of a quarter life crisis, or perhaps it’s a third life crisis given that I’m no longer 20 and I don’t expect to live to be 108!? Perhaps it’s the 7 year itch, come to visit a year early? Whatever it is, I’ve been asking a seemingly infinite number of questions that don’t really have answers. I feel like my mind is one of those choose-your-own-adventure books & I keep going back to the pivotal points in my mind and choosing the other adventure. Of course this leads to escapist fantasising because the other adventure is just that, a fantasy. I don’t know how it would have worked (or not worked) out.
What if I’d been mature enough to accept the romantic love of a friend when I was 20 & to admit that it was mutual? Would I still find myself at 27 living in the suburbs with 2 kids?
What if I’d been silly enough to stay in the relationship when I was 18? Would I be happy? I’m pretty clear on the answer to this one actually, he was a dick, I think anyone who knew him could attest to that.
What if I did like the way the name “Frejah” rolled of the tongue of the person who mattered the most when I wanted to change my name? Would I have stuck with it or would I have gone back to the comfort that was “kimba”?
What if I’d believed in my dream when I was 16? Would I have worked harder, saved my money, found my dream block and now be living in the strawbale house I built with a wagon wheel window and a rock grotto shower? Would I be a hermit in that house? Would I have children? Would I be in love? Would I be happy?
What if I had the guts to get on stage and be a stand up comedian? Would people laugh at my jokes so much if I was standing in front of a microphone? Would I get nervous and only tell the bad jokes?
What if I’d gone to the eco-village in the US instead of just over east to do my permaculture training? What if I’d stayed down south the first time? What if I stayed there the second time? What if I didn’t come back from northern NSW?
What if I’d continued my first choice of uni degree? Would I still be able to stomach a whole meat lovers pizza with BBQ sauce? No really, how completely different would my life be if I worked in theatre?
What if I laid down with my sleeping children this afternoon instead of writing about “what if?”?
What would it feel like to feel settled?
What if we didn’t make the mistake of buying a house when we did, would we have bought a different place that we loved and be living happily ever after in it now? Would we have dropped off the radar, given up on the great Australian dream of home ownership & chosen a life of connection as a family? Would we be happier if Bean didn’t work full time? I reckon the answer to this is a resounding YES! But even then, I’m possibly, probably, wrong.
I know, I think my brain is a scary place too, and that’s just a 30 second sound bite! Imagine being in this disjointed head 24/7!
This soul searching, questioning, pondering, it’s a glorified method of procrastination. Sometimes it’s fun, sometimes it’s torture. I find myself despising my 20 year old self for her immaturity, then I find myself berating my current self for being so hard on myself. Then I feel guilty for pondering a life different to the life I have. The privelidged life of a mother with 2 beautiful, healthy children, a woman with a supportive partner. The privelidged life of a woman with a roof over her head, food in her fridge, electricity to run the fridge, mod cons… mod cons… MODERN CONVENIENCES! Do I want them? Shut up, self, and get back to packing boxes. Another large suburban box awaits you!*
*at least this one will have a garden & a little breathing room for contemplative adventures.
