As I started out on my two-hour trek towards my parents’ house this past Wednesday night, I felt that familiar twinge; the one where I feel simultaneously grateful, unsatisfied, and inspired; that one that has propelled me through my goals. But as soon as I got to my parents’ house, that hunger was quelled.
There’s something about being in my childhood home that causes me to regress. I’m all of a sudden taken care of and overfed. There’s constantly something to do or someone to talk to. My bankcard stays in my wallet so I rarely even think about money or The Struggle.
But for every way in which I’m taken care of, I’ve traded a bit of freedom, which causes me to retreat back into the grumpy, darkness of adolescence. No matter than I’m now 24 years old.
How wonderful to not have to buy or make dinner, but the flip side is that I then don’t have much choice in what I’m eating. At the end of our four-day, Thanksgiving vacation together I ate a cracker all by its lonesome and as I did so, I could feel my mother’s eyes on me. It may not seem like a big deal to some, but to my mother, that cracker was a gluten-free vehicle for eating pancetta and Havarti. I was wasting it, missing out on life’s greatest joy of flavor and fat. Meanwhile, all I wanted was to cut calories where I pleased, thankyouverymuch.
Technically I’d muted my metaphorical hunger with food (and other comforts), but it was only temporary. Consequentially, I’d stripped myself back to basics. On Sunday evening, when I’d finally packed up my car with freshly laundered clothes, left overs, and gluten free treats, I felt a resurgence of energy.
I was reminded of who I am and why I am. I have so many loved ones who value different things than I do. Simply put: I prefer sweet and some enjoy savory. But somehow, I’d accidentally gotten off track, fixating instead on my friends’ filtered Instagrams of savory treats. My ego had gotten the best of me, demanding the universe to tell me why I couldn’t have both the sweet and the savory? And while we’re at it, why can’t I have sour if I want it? Whatever I want, I deserve. I work hard. I’m a good person.
But what I do and who I am isn’t the point. We are all on our own paths and long before the Thanksgiving break I’d completely lost track of my path. By regressing to an adolescent state of feeling smothered and out of control, I was able to strip down and remember the bare bones of what I wanted; regardless of life’s temptations.
According to Tony Robbins, energy comes from having a mission, and as I drove back home through the torrential downpour (read: average amount of rain that creates fear and traffic all throughout Southern California), I felt a wonderful resurrection in the plan that I created for myself a few years ago. In addition to a newfound love for everything that I am, regardless of how the rest of society functions around me.
Little mini update via my iPhone: