Do as I say, not as I do

Some times the memories wear you down. It usually happens when you are stressed or vulnerable. You reach out with you mind to find the times when life was less about where you are going and more about where you are. For me, flashes of college, failed relationships, and missed opportunities swim through my head. The fight against the questions of what could I have done differently or what if I had made this choice instead of that one are brought to the fore front of my conscience.

On my way home tonight I passed my alma mater. There was a rush of at least 20 memories, all of which made me smile, instantaneously pulled from the archives of my brain. These happy times were quickly replaced with a sense of dread at the lack of care free, no regret situations I face before me.

I have, recently, been the person happy with my current status. I like my job, I enjoy my accomplishments, and I have a personal relationship with God. But, this doesn't make me miss my "old life" any less. A by-product of growing up is embracing responsibility and forming a new life with what you have built upon in the past. Maybe my pessimistic side is taking over at this point, but I can't tell you how many times I want to, for lack of a better word, escape.

I have been a shreveportian for going on 15 years. I have watched the cotton fields of south Youree turn into the booming mecca for the economically comfortable. I have watched schools and neighborhoods go from respectable to shambles. Most importantly I have seen many friends leave, with their heads held high and their cars pointed East. This bothers me as I look at what there is here, and what there is not here. Many times over the past couple of years I have thought about forgoing my fiscal responsibilities and disappearing. Hitchhiking down to the tip of South America has always had an appeal to me. I would also love to just move to Colorado or North Carolina. Give up my educational roots and be a seasonal instructor, floating from river guide to snow instructor as the years passed. Unfortunately, or fortunately, my mind takes over where my body fails. I am here, making my living and pursuing the "American Dream." At what cost though? When you stop being defined as what you want and start being defined as what you do, where do you go from there?

Maybe it is the few beers I had tonight or maybe it is the truth finally seeping through. Am I happy? Yes, no questions. Is there more out there? Yes, no questions. Will there every be a meeting of what I want to do and what I am doing? Now that's the real questions.

It is easy to SAY give it all up and do what your heart wants, but doing it is something completely different. How many people make these decisions and end up ruining their life and others...but how many live their dream. I have the feeling tomorrow when I check what I have written my mind will have completely changed, but that is my purgative. Most of this is just my inner ramblings written down and then stupidly shared with the world, but seeing it written brings order to the chaos of my mind. I guess when it comes down to it(the moral if you will), do what you will, but don't regret your decisions. I may never go to South America or this be a precurssor to a future decision. If I, on a whim, sell everything I have and escape to South America, don't worry about me for I am attempting to tame my inner beast and longing dreams, I will be rocking it out with my Latino friends(but don't' count on anything happening for a while). Pulling it all together has not always been a strong suit of mine.