It’s a question that’s defined my life since, well since I’ve tried defining my life.

“What’s next?”

I’m not someone to dwell on the past, nor am I particularly great at living in the present (something I’d like to work on) but heck if I’m not great at asking (and answering) “what’s next?”

As a student you’re constantly programmed to plan and manage your life in semester chunks. I’ve always had some kind of plan mapped out. Yes, I did control it, but it was guided by societal expectations of what I was supposed to be doing. Growing up on island, with a seasonal tourism based economy, we were either living “in-season” or “off-season” sowing or reaping our “harvest.”

My point is: I’ve been programed to think in chunks, in seasons, in semesters, in the future, but I’ve gotten to a point in my life where the game plan just kind of fades off. It’s a bizarre feeling getting comfortable in an apartment that I might be living in for more than 3 to 10 months. Not worrying that I have to pack it all up. I don’t think it will sink in until I don’t go back to school in August, when life stops becoming so seasonally prescribed.

So, without clubs to join, class schedules to plan, grades to earn, tuition to pay, tests to study for, or jobs to apply to (and stress about) I don’t have a whole lot to plan for or worry about, outside my job…. weird.

I have, for the first time, a very blank canvas. It’s like, really, really blank. It’s so exciting, but also terrifying.

I know that I really enjoy my job, I love writing this blog, I feel great when I lead an active healthy lifestyle, I need to make things, and I love surrounding myself with fun and lovely people.

So I guess that’s “what’s next”. Following my gut, pursuing these passions, and seeing where it takes me.

 

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