I have this suffocating fear about doing the wrong thing.
Am I in the right city?
Am I on the right career path?
Am I wearing the right outfit?
Am I reading the right book?
I am constantly swimming in this pool of panic that lives in my head. I know, I know, there is no one right path and to live that way can be limiting, but these thoughts plague all of my decisions and I look to vain things for validation.
But sometimes I have a moment of clarity. I realize that all I have is enough and that no matter what choices I make I am more than right, I am me.
I haven seen Kieara in three years, the last time days before I left Lesotho. She came to Chicago this weekend and it was amazing. It did not feel like three years or major life events were between us, just two friends who find similar struggles and joys. We toured Chicago, ate our favorite foods, took pictures, shopped and visited high places. We talked about dating, jobs, family, old friends and trying to find our way in this world. She even helped me fix my bed, making it more adult. I was so sad to see her go, I cried a day before she was to depart.
As I left my office this evening, the darkening sky reminded me that she was go and I was to continue on with my life.
Maybe living the right life means that every few years you get a couple days with an old friend. Maybe living the right life means keeping good company who say, “I think this is good for you.” Maybe it means just making sure the good people stay in your life, no matter how long you go in between visits.
If that’s the case, maybe I am doing OK after all.