there was once a girl who had become utterly confused with life.  she was serving delicious food at a small local restaurant.  she was home, but home had changed a lot since she lived there five years earlier.  graduation had passed while she was away and she was finally free of that bond that she regretted all of those years.  in many ways she was finally living the dream.  free from rigid schedules and routines, from major responsibilities.  living simply.  walking around.  photographing.  drinking good beer with new friends.  falling in love with new foods and wines with more new people.  but she still wasnt happy.  she lacked a community that had become her norm.  and what bothered her now more than ever was her inability to know what to do with her life. 

but how could this be? 
how could it be that she wasnt happy amidst this life she had conjured up while in places her dreams couldnt be reality?

and while visiting the place that she now knew as home because it was where most of the people she loved were, she told one of them of her dilemma.  she explained that she wasnt happy or content here.  responding in a way to which only tears could adequetly react, he asked, "when have you been content?"

over the next few days, this muddled girl realized lots of things.  perhaps she had never really been living where she was... who can be truly content when she is looking at something or thinking of somewhere else?  it seemed as though when the world of possibilities had opened up to her upon leaving high school, the line between dreaming and living stretched too thin. 

and for the first time ever, she acknowledged a melancholic girl inside of her that she had always denied.  could it be that it was actually okay to feel sad and lonely and depressed?  and really, really?  she didnt have to feel like something was wrong with her when she felt these ways? 

and about not knowing what to do next or what her "life purpose" was, she decided that it didnt matter all that much in the moment.  if she didnt have peace, would it ever matter, even if she knew exactly how the rest of her life would unfold?  and she realized, with immense relief that she didnt need to know.  it would come.

and since these small, obvious ideas entered the girl's heart and mind, she felt new.

its only been days since she recognized these things, but since then she spent a whole day by herself and she was okay.  she also stopped worrying about her future when walking across the snowy city.  like a parent taking a sharp knife away from a child, she removed those thoughts from her active mind... and started thinking about the walk, the life around her, the hope.

it feels healthy. 

god, i feel a bit of health being restored.

it seems like everyone in my generation is going through a confusing fog as far as living life goes.  like we have all of these decisions, we are trying to live well, to make meaning out of this, asking many more questions than we can imagine having answers for, and feeling completely lost amidst it all.  maybe this period of life is like a holding tank.  could it be that we are simply working through stuff, becoming more ourselves, in order to live truly and largely in the days to come? 

or maybe that perspective completely misses the point.  could the idea that "knowing the answers" actually be a self-inflicted bondage?  perhaps the freedom is not in answers, but in questions; in asking questions of life, of others, and of history and knowing that, in its impeccable timing, answers will be revealed to us.

and this all sounds familiar.  because ive discovered them before.  a thousand times before. 
and again, i can breathe freely.  ive (re)recovered freedom.

love, not answers.
(madeleine l'engle speaks this truth so beautifully)