“...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”At the time I was wide eyed and full of idealistic energy. I proudly quoted the beatnik writer as an advocate for a life passionately lived. I was sure that I would use the words as a mantra while I set the world ablaze. Though I lacked direction, I did know that whatever I'd end up doing, I wanted it to mean something. I wanted to be a force unpredictable, even if that meant a facing some danger along the way.
Fast forward several years, and living up to my expectations became a lot tougher. But then 50-60 hours of work a week happened. A court case happened. Then working with one of the most at-risk populations, the hardest grade level, and chaotic workplaces happened. Then bad habits happened. Anxiety happened. Traumatic life events happened. A strained, and at times problematic, relationship happened. Survival mode happened.
Now, a full 7 years into adulthood later, it's time to check myself: am I one of the mad ones? Not quite. The adult me has learned that routines keep you disciplined and reveal your dedication. But can also lead to the commonplace. I've learned that trials of life can leave you feeling beat down, thus creating a desire to seek comfort. While comfort sounds fine and dandy this is an idea that I once publicly dismissed. These are adult things that I've used to cope with all that's been tough. And they've helped-- but at what cost?
Yes, life is hard. And yes, I've been through a lot-- more than I probably could've fathomed at that day I stood behind the podium. But the 18 year old me knows that's not an excuse. So can I still burn like a fabulous yellow roman candle? Or did my flare burn out?
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