Spiderwebs

If you had asked me twenty years ago what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have said a teacher; ten years after that I would have said a journalist or a nurse practitioner. Today I sit behind a sleek Apple monitor in a corner(ish) office with a view of the brick wall to the building next door. I am many things in this office but teacher, journalist and nurse are not any of them. I am mostly a designer, sometimes a researcher, a typographer, a layout artist, a logo designer, a brand management official. If you had told me twenty years ago, when I was sharing purple crayons with my best friend at table six in Kindergarten, that I would be sitting here today, at this desk, doing what I do, not only would I not have believed you, I wouldn't have understood you. Computers were still pretty non-existent when I was growing up. I laugh when I think about telling my nieces and nephews that I can "remember when the Internet didn't exist."

If you had told me I wouldn't yet be married with lots of kids I wouldn't have believed you. Of course, when you're six you think you'll be married with babies by age...15. Your perspective is so limited; hell, ten years ago I thought I would be married by now. And yes even as not-so-far back as three years ago I thought I would be married by now. But people and things change and your ideas about life evolve and for me, they evolve on an almost daily basis.

There are many ways to view change just as their are equally as many ways to accept and learn to live with change. The constant ebb and flow of life always has me guessing and sometimes I'm not okay with that; sometimes I want solidified ground to sink my feet into. Other times I am happy having absolutely no plans for tomorrow, next week or the next ten years. I thought I would have it all figured out by now and the truth is...I don't. And in may ways, that's terribly scary and frustrating for me. There are parts of me that wish I was more like some of my friends who do have it figured out; who have the career, the husband-to-be and the six figure income. But in so many other ways, it's exciting not have it figured out. These friends can't pick up next year and move halfway across the world or quit their careers and start over in something totally different. They are no longer a "me" they are a "we." They have plans for kids in the next few years; they will have mouths to feed. I have a dog to feed, so not the same thing.

So while there are many ways to get from point A to point B, I'm beginning to see that half the fun is trying to find the best way to get there, not necessarily just any old way. Along the way I've failed miserably; I've given up and started over from zero. But I've also been victorious. It's like "they" always say about life being more about the journey than the destination. Clichés exist for a reason. Life would be a helluva lot less exciting if everyone had it figured out. The thread of our webs would be less intertwined, less complicated and certainly less easy to rebuild after a storm.