Existential Quandry

"Man is born to live, not to prepare to live." - Boris Pasternak

  

I just heard the siren of a fire truck speeding by the office.  

 

Sudden, intense longing. 

 

I’m trapped in a windowless prison.

While there is a world out there.  People.  Living life.  Experiencing.  Doing.

 

What am I doing here?  What does it matter?

I work at things I think I want, trying to get the life I think I need because, deep down, I don't believe I can do what I truly want to do. That I can't do it, and even if I can, that I don't deserve it. That I will fail. Or succeed. Or succeed and find I'm a fraud. 

 

I have a new job.  One that I spent a year studying for and another two years waiting to get. 

 

I'm still preparing.  More school for another certification.  To get more job experience.  To move.  To get a "career" despite the economy.  So I can start living my life.

 

And this, like every other thing I have prepared to do to start living my life, feels hollow.  Because, while it is something to give me security, it isn't what my heart truly wants. 

 

 

And a siren goes by and I want to be out there.  In the world.  Doing.  Living.