Life

“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

~Mary Oliver

There isn’t enough time. This simple thought is at once a source of dread and excitement. What will I do? Where will I go? I want to do everything. I want to explore ancient ruins and I want to live on a deserted island. I want to eat a real mango and drink from a hollow coconut shell. I want to never see another car or building or paved road again; just endless dewy grass. I want to walk briskly through the streets of New York in a long black coat with red shoes. I want to be a mother. I want to learn to juggle. I want to be a ballerina in George Balanchine’s company. I want to take my shoes off and slosh through rain that has warmed over the hot stones of a street in Naples. Or I could write until my hands fell off and I’d have to use my toes. I want to stay at home and read late into the night and never leave.

There isn’t enough time! Not even close.

Is it acceptable to spend so much time waiting for your life to start? I don’t know. Maybe in the end, the waiting and dreaming is what makes it all worth something.