The car drives. I just go. I don’t know where I am and I don’t know how I got here. My life flashes like a projector and I flip the switch. I made the decisions but was I ever really in control?
In the first scene my family and I celebrate Christmas. My sister is 18. She has picked out a tree that is way too big. I tell her no. It won’t fit in the house, so I know I’ll have to saw it. She pouts and we get it.
The projector flashes and it’s on to the next image. I have to make money. I dropped out when the economy crashed, but two years of saving and I’m back in school. I’m in a parking lot at Mizzou, rich enough for school, but too poor for a place to go. I’m wearing a flannel shirt and I’m in the fetal position with my contacts tucked into my clothes trying to get out of the cold. I remember my professor Katherine Reed, but I hope she doesn’t remember me. I cried when I told her I had to quit two years before.
Then I’m saying goodbye to my friends at Mizzou. I got a job in a small town newspaper, where I’ll work like a maniac and never get noticed. Cayce and Perry and a lot of my friends are at the going away party. The signs on the wall say goodbye pig — my nickname. I cry as I tell Cayce goodbye. We stay in touch. I sure cry a lot for somebody so tough.
And then I’m in Monmouth, where I am now. Everything’s different. The world is simpler and so are politics. There’s no need to ask questions on morality or economy because the small town crew has it all figured out.
But I’m driving in an old Buick on a snowy road and I don’t know where to go. I’d like to scream out where are you holy ghost? Where do I go from here? Sometimes I pretend the high beams are the holy ghost and I follow them wherever they go. But the real world isn’t so clear.
If my pen slips I could injure someone. If I don’t say enough then I contribute to ignorance. I’m just trying to do right. We are all just trying to right, but it’s hard when everyone is so uptight.
It’s no wonder so many people are paralyzed. I would gladly push forward if I just knew where to go, but it’s Christmas time and I’m all alone. I’d like to be in St. Louis butchering a tree. I’d like to hang out with friends. But I could gladly do without some of those comforts if I could just flash forward on my projector machine and see the world better because of me.
Things will get better. Every temporary situation feels horribly permanent when you’re in the middle of it. It takes a strong man to cry. You will make the world better – you are making the world better – but it’s in tiny increments that are hard to see because the world is just so big. But God put you exactly where you are for a purpose. And the Holy Ghost is there if you just keep looking.
A year or so ago a read the memoir “A Three Dog Life” by Abigail Thomas. Her husband was in the ICU and one of the doctors told her “Good things happen slowly and bad things happen fast.” That quote has stuck with me. I think it’s an important perspective. It’s harder to see the good things that are happening gradually, but they are real.
This post is beautifully written, by the way. Kind of poetic. Very relatable. I hope you feel better soon.
I appreciate the reply. I think I’m in a bit of a rut. I’m in that mid 20′s stage where I have to ask myself am I any good at what I do? Where am I going?
I’ve always been one who believes you have to stick with things, but it’s hard sometimes. You know?