A Lesson from Shooting Stars

I went running on the MU campus Tuesday morning, doing the 5k race course. It went better than a couple months ago, physically, but mentally I wasn't as jazzed. Because I knew that next week students would start returning, and pretty soon the whole world will be going back to school. For the first time, I won't be joining them.

When I graduated in spring, the plan was to take the summer off completely, and then see what happened, or what I would need to make happen. I didn't know if I'd pursue more education, or try to get a writing-something-or-other going, or work, or just hang out at home and wait for opportunity to come knocking.

In the meantime, I've had fun. This summer has been a roller coaster (one that hasn't come in for a landing yet) and is one that will stick out in my memory; but going deeper in relationships and through all the experiences has been worth the ride.

Like in all the books and movies though, summers don't last forever. In the whole scheme of things, summers are like the shooting stars I stayed up until 2AM watching last weekend—bright and glorious while they happen, but also fast. 

If life were a shooting star, we'd burn out quick. So we need some stability, need to make decisions that will give us more than memories that, though happy, are somewhat selfish. It's clichè to say, but we, I, need to do stuff that will last. Life is not something to be flirted with. It takes commitment and hard work.

I admit commitment scares me. It always has, partly because my life in this family has been rather unstable and flighty, the only concrete paradoxically being the intangibles of God and love. I've had to be flexible so many times—life depending on flexibility—that I fear having that taken away from me.

I don't like the thought of pounding in stakes firmly, because then I might miss that opportunity that requires agility to reach, and the ability to drop everything and go. Or, by committing to something good now, what if it means passing up the perfect that was coming later, if I had only waited for it?

It's mostly why I did college online. Even though it tied me to a computer and to a schedule, at least I could pick both those things up and carry them with me. It also influenced why I switched from pursuing a career in medicine to writing, because the thought of a conventional job and a 5-day workweek make me feel claustrophobic.

But life is commitment. We'll never amount to anything or achieve anything if we don't put down roots or dig and fill that foundation, if we don't make decisions that will shape the rest of our life.

So I'm making some decisions, and as of yet it's a shot in the dark, and I have no clue if they will come to fruition...

But I am making decisions. And life is going to change again. One way or another, I know it has to because I cannot live in a perpetual summer.