Giddy.

Sometimes I just want to bottle up everything I’m feeling and label it “in case of emergency, dose accordingly.” I’ve been having a prolonged period of “giddy.” And it’s incredible. I’ve spent so much of this year feeling down and disimpassioned and disenfranchised and just generally meh. In stark contrast, the past few weeks have been all sunshine and rainbows and hope. Hope for a new start. Hope for feeling connected to my field again. Hope for my inner motivations making more regular appearances in the sitcom of my life. The feeling’s already changed so much of how I interact with my surroundings. Case in point, I’ve made more friends in the past 3 weeks, than I have in the past 9 months. I’ve also gotten to know the big bad city in a more intimate and colourful way, and dare I say it, I kind of like it. I’ve also connected with my work in a different way, feeling a sense of power over its outcome and impact. The 180 degree flip in my feelings and resulting peaks and troughs wasn’t unprompted. It was carefully orchestrated with a combination of reconnecting with people I care about and can be unfiltered around, as well as imposing big changes into a path that otherwise looked somewhat predictable. This has made me realize something: I need constant flux.  My mom used to joke that our family had a “rock-the-boat” curse, where as soon as things seemed to be settling, we’d pick up and change something drastic just to keep us on our toes. This year has made me fully appreciate the poignancy of her statement. When I tried to choose stability, I made myself miserable. Going back to a path with a smorgasbord of unknowns however, perked me right back up. I’m not sure that I’ll really “grow out” of this particular brand of masochism. And you know… I’m not sure I want to. The key to happiness, as far as I can tell, is absolving yourself of expectations, and stability, by definition, lends itself to expectations. If I don’t know what to expect, I’d be more open to the redeeming qualities of my found reality.  But knowing what to expect, I’d limit my repertoire of appreciation to only an appreciation of designs laid out within the tiny frame of my imagination. I’m sure there’s a healthier way of achieving happiness, but for now, this prolonged giddy resulting from rocking my boat feels like something I should hold onto and try to tap into down the line when I inevitably start to get bored again…

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