This morning I woke up with One Direction’s “The Story Of My Life” playing in my head. The song is close to my heart, reminding me of my time in Bangladesh. Strange choice I know. I recently travelled ‘back home’ on my own. Even though the majority of my family live there, mainly due to costs but also because of school, I hadn’t visited in over ten years.
With the stress of calling off my upcoming marriage and pressures from work, I made a random decision to visit and booked tickets two weeks before leaving. My family were surprised to say the least but perhaps I can go into my whole adventure in another post.
Back to One Direction. The plane there and back did not have a charging port so I was in the mercy of the in-flight music selection. One Direction’s album was the best there was – and I guess that says something about the selection. Regardless, somewhere in the process of replaying the album continuously for eight hours (each way) I came to love it, and now associate it with my adventures and family in Bangladesh.
I spent a good portion of my morning lie in flicking through my scheduled and draft posts. My heart sank as I just wasn’t connecting with any of the posts I had written and was not entirely satisfied with the prospects of posting them. So I turned to my little, black notebook, hoping inspiration would just hit me. It didn’t. And after starting several posts, jotting down several ideas and getting a little frustrated I gave up. I still had “Story of My Life” playing in my head, quietly in the background.
I remembered the daily post prompts and decided to scroll through those, not really expecting anything much. And there I saw “Your Life, the Book.”. I remembered I had a book like that, one my friends had purchased for me for my 16th birthday.
Feeling restless, I decided to have a snoop in my cupboard and drag it out. After receiving the book, I was so adamant to start from my birth but came to realise I didn’t remember enough to fill in those early years. So I gave up and decided to keep the book for my first child (ironic since I don’t even know if I want children!). I thought if I didn’t start from birth I wouldn’t really be recording ‘my life’ and would be ruining the present.
But is this not the start of my life? It is the first year I’ve left university and the formal education system. The first year where I am in control of the decisions I make. The year I can’t get away with hiding behind the guise of still being a student to act like a child. The first year I’ve been exposed to the “real world”. This is the start of my life, or at least the life I can start.
Feeling inspired, I’ve rescued the book from the black hole that is my cupboard and hope to work on it this summer.
Just don’t give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there’s love and inspiration, I don’t think you can go wrong – Ella Jane FItzgerald