My classes start tomorrow after a sorely needed Spring break.
I had a dastardly time; I had two backpacking trips cancelled, worked on my writing, meditation, and reading during the day, then partied every night. I went surfing on a day trip, had multiple beach fires, snuck out of my house, day-hiked in a state park, and bought incense at a record store. I met a girl who I’m into and we’ve hung out in a group setting for the past seven days straight, bar one night.
I had the spring break that seventeen year old’s are supposed to have and I’m left sad. Where do I go from here? This was fun all week and yet, come Monday I’m not satisfied. If anything I’m disappointed because in comparison the coming weeks are going to bore me.
Which makes me think of traveling and my future: what happens when my trip is over? When I’ve traveled for eight months? When I come back and everything is the same but worse because I’ve seen better.
What are we supposed to do here? Seek adrenaline highs? They’ve become exceedingly out of reach. My friends and I snuck onto the roof of an elementary school last night and I wasn’t fazed — I’ve done it before. Is life just a constant search for higher buildings? Better surf breaks? More daring adventures? Do I never get to be satisfied and live in peace?
These are doubts I have; these are doubts we all have. And after years of spiritual work, I’m still plagued on nights at twelve twenty-four am.
The problem with searching for answers is that it only leads to more questions.