Sometimes, you wake up in the wrong pair of pants.
Waking up Pants-less
It's been 7 days, and I still can't find my pants. These are no ordinary pants. We're talking high-quality "even the pockets fit my hands" pants. The kind of pants that you want to wear when you're feeling business-casual and you're going to your sister's graduation ceremony so you wear a suit jacket, a t-shirt, and THESE pants. The kind of pants that always feel so NEW and so YOU that no other pants dare compare, au contraire mon frere. So naturally, when they disappear after only several months of ownership (the last time you wore them they still had the sticker down the side declaring your impossible-to-find pant size to everyone) you get a little upset. It is NOT anything as cheery as our LEGO friends claim it to be.
Now, if I want to wear my pants, I have to choose something else. Something I don't want to choose. Something that doesn't scream "I AM ME, AND THESE PANTS THINK SO TOO." I'll spend all morning searching for the right pair of pants to wear, and end up dumping all my denim all across the floor in a wild frenzy. By the time I'm actually dressed, wearing a pair of old denim cut-off shorts from high school, I'm too anxious to get on with my life properly, and I spend the rest of the day feeling lost and confused and alone. Without the proper pants, a person can't belong among their own skin and bones.
But is this really about pants?
It's as if I was given a pair of "adult pants" after graduation to use for all my "grownup stuff" and I wore them so often that the one day I don't use them becomes the day I lose them.
I had been been wearing a different pair of pants all my life that had been washed, cared for, and placed on my bed every morning by the great mother in the sky, but when it became my turn to wash them, I didn't know what to do. Okay, the analogy is getting a little confusing, so just think of it like this:
My life, so easily defined for so long, as well as what my future should look like, had been written out for me Go to school, do your homework, learn your lessons, practice your lines, learn the choreography, be awesome. Now that I'm starting to spend time on my own with no definitive future, I need to write out my own plan: play the games, write the blog, do the laundry, relax the couch, talk to girlfriend, pet the cat, eat the food, wear the pants aaaannd.... Is there more? I don't know. I don't think so. There's no syllabus, so there can't be.
I've gotten lost in the inability to guide myself.
I've been doing so much, I forgot what it means to just be.
I forgot what it means to just... wear pants.
Today is the 7th day since I finished my 4 years of straight-up, action-packed, go-get-em, pursuit-filled, self-indulging, life-lesson learning experience they call "college." 7 days ago I finished my PFCT tour and the 4 year streak of craziness that I started at Bethel University. Thus, today is like the 7th day after I lost my pants (my mind?).
I spent the past few days "relaxing" and ending up like this:
Because of my inability to sit back, relax, and enjoy life (pants) I am lost and confused. I know that I have to relax, trust that everything will be okay, my life will find a direction to take, and I should just wear the first pair of pants that I can find (literally). But, all I want is for the great mother in the sky to iron my pants and set them out for me again.
That's just not how it works.
I feel like a lot of people in today's society fall into this unfortunate post-college funk. We're told to pursue, pursue, pursue our dreams, and when we don't do it for a little while, we feel bad. We feel guilty about not doing something. Our American Dream has been perverted into an American Scheme of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of doing something every day." So often, someone will ask me, "So what's next for you, Josh? Are you planning some other great adventure?" and if I don't answer them will some tale of glory about the ironed out pants that I'll be wearing, they look at me with discomfort or give me the "that's-too-bad" shrug while I outrage in my mind about how hopeless my future seems to the outside person. Granted, they probably don't actually think anything of the situation, but it makes me feel disappointed. I would rather someone ask me about how I'm doing right now instead of about what I'm going to be doing next.
I would rather someone ask me about how I'm doing right now instead of about what I'm going to be doing next.
You know what I'm doing next? Nothing. And that's okay. I am getting ready to receive my life, to pick up my own pair of tailored pants, by emptying out my dresser drawers. When my mind is clean, fresh, and ready to go, there will be adventures to be had. I know these things will happen. My life will be my life, but I can't worry about it, because my life already is my life. Sure, I'm going to be okay with wearing the wrong pair of pants sometimes, but until then...
I'm gonna sit and type without any pants on. :)
So here's what I want, If you're reading this, then post a comment about how you're doing, RIGHT NOW! Use the pants analogy! Everyone has a favorite pair of pants, so describe your state of mind (pants) by describing a pair of pants. Tell me where yo pants is at. Peace.
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