I got in my old car the other day, the smell filled my body with a time that has long gone. I breathed in and played the first song from the CD that has been in there since September last year.
I wondered if all the steps I’ve taken to get me to where I now were worth it.
This time last year I had not a worry in the world, my nights were filled with spontaneous antics and my days of doodling on paper in a classroom. I’ve always craved routine, the hollow 9-5 days, the routine would be nice just once. From living between two houses at the age of 7 to school holidays visiting one or several of my 9 siblings sprawled across Australia, I guess routine was never something that bestowed itself upon me like a crown to the next in line of the throne. Although I never complained, back then a lack of routine was heralded as popular to my peers living in their 4 child, smitten parents, perfect homes. So I wore that uncommon habit with pride, still, to this day I would not change it.
Maybe every step I’ve taken over the past year was compulsory for personal growth, maybe I’ll wake up in the morning and a new path will be open, embedded with the possibility of routine. Or maybe I’ll wake in the morning and it’ll be just another day and routine is a thing well and truly in the distance. Although I do know this, since those long carefree uni days, the path that opened for me was the right one. That moment sitting in my car, Passengers sweet music filling its interior and the dust collecting in the ashtray, that moment was one of the only I’d felt routine closing in. Like a wave washing onto your feet than shrinking away, a tiny taste of the next wave to come as the tide moves in.
I will become the person I have to and I am in fact doing that.
But for right now the car can sit in the shed and wait, wait for the next door to open.
Lil bird x