Unsatisfied

I went to a concert last night at a local café. A band I know a little was playing – Jacob and Lily out of Winnipeg. My baby brother came with me, and we left, just as they were beginning their second set, because Tim and I both had to leave for work early this morning. (Who starts a concert on a Wednesday night at 9pm anyway? Doesn’t anyone I know have jobs with normal hours?)

I enjoyed it. I really did. Listening to Karla and Caleb play was great. Visiting with friends I hadn’t seen in a while was great, too. I even got a couple of hugs. I place a high premium on hugs these days.

But I came home entirely unsatisfied with my life. It wasn’t really something new, just something that’s been growing for a long time, and was underscored by friends who are living their dreams.

I don’t want to be in Calgary any more. I don’t want to be so tied to the realities of full-time work. I want to be in ministry, but don’t know how to go about it. I want to be some sort of monastic (though I think I’d be bad at it), or some sort of gypsy. I want to see the world, and meet Jesus in crazy places. I want to collect stories that make me laugh and stories that make me cry.

I fell asleep wondering how to communicate to my parents that their most conventional, most set in her ways child wants to find adventure in life. How to make my parents who are big on responsibility, on setting and meeting goals, that I just want to wander. That I have things (you could even call them goals) that I want to do with my life, but at present I’m more interested in the journey to those things, than in the ultimate achievement of them.

The thing is, I’m no musician, so I can’t make a living as a bohemian that way. I have absolutely no idea how to support this kind of lifestyle. And, here’s a confession. I’m awfully attached to the comforts of life. I could live simply, but I really like having things, having disposable income, having lots of clothes, lots of books, the ability to eat out regularly, hi-speed internet, and so on. I am increasingly convicted of a sort of selfishness, a me first mentality within myself that I am not happy with.

And the dreams?

Well, I fell asleep on the thought that I want to change the world. I want to hang out with broken women, and see healing and wholeness. I want to write. I want to be happy. I want to live somewhere with sunshine, where I can wear skirts the whole year round, without worrying that my legs will get frostbitten. Skirts are who I am. I’ve spent years denying the girlyness within me. I want to wear skirts. They suit my figure, they make me happy.