Sit Beside Me When the World Comes Down

In the random linkages of thought to thought and URL to URL, I came across this: 50 Questions That Will Free Your Mind. And since sleep has decided to be something of a stranger tonight, I thought I might begin to answer them, although ponder might be a better word. They’re hardly the kind of questions that a person can really "answer." I think, given their philosophical nature, I will attempt one question per entry. So, first question…

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

My first reaction is to say that I’m in my early 20’s. Twenty-three somehow feels right to me. But then, can I really answer this question with complete freedom? I only have knowledge of those ages I’ve already experienced. I can say that I feel older than 27, but how can I really know that until I’ve outlived 27? I do know that I feel like I’ve experienced too much to say I still feel like a teenager. But part of me still has that sensation of "just starting." Is that what happens as we get older? Do we lose track of when we actually got older? It’s not that I feel like my life has been on hold at all. I just feel like I don’t know enough. I feel very young, in a way that I don’t recall feeling when I actually was very young. A second youth? As teenagers, don’t we all think we know everything? At what point did I come to realize that I don’t? Despite having far more experience now than I did ten years ago, I feel less sure of what I do know. Or maybe that’s not it at all. I just feel like I don’t have all the answers. But since when do I need all the answers? Okay, it would be nice. I’m a bit of a control freak that way. I like to be prepared. On the other hand, isn’t there a certain wisdom to knowing that one knows nothing? I have some good ideas about some things, but I can only act and think based on what I have experienced thus far, and that doesn’t seem like much. It’s enough to get by, but there’s a lot more out there. In thinking about it, 23 is a good age to be, even if I’m not. There’s freedom to it, with just enough responsibility to be empowering.

It’s almost midnight here, which means it’s almost 2 a.m. in Connecticut and the rest of the eastern time zone, which the majority of you are in. I’m thinking about everything and everyone back there and feeling a little mournful about it all. It’s not that I don’t like Colorado Springs. It really is beautiful out here and we even found an apartment that we’ll be moving into officially once our time at the hotel is up. The weather has been gorgeous, if a little dry. It’s a nice change as far as I’m concerned. Even with temperatures in the 90’s I’ve been completely comfortable. And it seems like there’s always a breeze to take the edge off the worst of the heat. We do have to worry about forest fires here, which was never a concern in New England. In fact, they’ve had to close some roads and attractions near here because of a fire near Canon City, southwest of the Springs. It’s a little scary. Fire has always frightened me, even though I enjoy bonfires, fireplaces, and candles. Part of my enjoyment is the touch of adrenaline, the fear that something could happen, that I might burn up. Perhaps it’s all the water and earth in my nature. Both of them are fire’s natural enemies, but maybe it’s the fear that even those reliable elements wouldn’t be enough to contain the blaze.

Maybe this imbalance is why I put so little emphasis on passion in my relationships. I am afraid that if I give the fire free reign, the rest of me will be left in ashes and smoke. It’s worse knowing that I have such capacity for passion and that I have every reason to fear it. It’s hard not to recall the rush of terror and exhilaration that comes with mania and mixed moods. That’s why I need to keep such a tight hold. That just isn’t the way I want to live my life. I’ve never been a fan of the live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse idea. My goal in life is to have a long, happy life. And passion does not equal happiness. I should know. In the past, chasing passion has only led to pain for me.

I think I might be better off directing my passions towards more abstract ideals. Work that makes me happy and that doesn’t feel like "work." Causes I can believe passionately in.

Now I’m just kind of brooding. Then again, I was brooding before I came on here anyway. As for the 50 Questions, I’d be very interested in reading some other answers. I think it would be fun to see how other people think and how they think of themselves. Free your mind and the rest will follow.

~Lizzie