Wednesday, July 24, 2013
I want to be a storyteller.
I think I've always wanted to be a storyteller.
When I was younger, I used to believe this meant going on grand adventures like you read about in books.
I wanted life-changing journeys and a wild cast of characters and surprises at every turn.
I wanted that, and maybe a part of me still does, but mostly, I just want to be able to tell a really good story.
But my life so far has not been a grand adventure, at least not the kind you read about in a novel.
I tried to convince myself that this was okay, that maybe my story could be gleaned from all the ordinary moments -- that if you strung them all together you could somehow sense a plot. But I keep trying that and it's like all the pieces just won't fit together. It doesn't make sense.
Of course it doesn't. I don't know everything that's going to happen yet. I can't connect the dots when they're not all there.
So I'm taking a step back again, thinking, maybe it's okay that it doesn't make sense. Maybe it's okay not to know who you are or where this is going or what it means or anything. Maybe it it isn't fair for you to want to understand your life when you're still in the middle of it. You are seventeen, I tell myself. Someday, probably, you will be able to look back at everything that happened as steps leading you to where you will be. Right now, all you can see is what feels like a big tangled mess. Maybe it is not your job right now to untangle it into something that has meaning, but just to keep going. Keep living. Don't be afraid to make a bigger mess, even. If you want to be able to tell a story, you're going to have to do something, and you know that much is true.
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.” (Gilda Radner)