"I guess I'm just wondering when it will be my turn," she said, as we strolled through Little Italy. "It's just this awful feeling... and it's worse these days."
I understood how she felt, but I knew from similar conversations I'd had with others, that sharing my understanding with her was probably the last thing she needed at the moment.
So I listened, while making a mental list of all the emotions we were sharing at that exact time and place... I wasn't in unfamiliar territory with this conversation - it was one I'd had with myself many times before (and probably will, sometime again).
"I just think that each time it's going to be different," she thought out loud. "Each time, I hope I get that special... something. You know?"
I knew. And she knew I got what she was talking about.
We made it to our destination - a cute little lounge in the heart of Toronto's Little Italy, where a couple of our other friends had already reserved a table for us. We spent the night catching up - a bunch of young women chatting about the things that young women chat about. Well, except for one thing.
One of our friends had made the difficult decision not too long ago to pack all her bags and move across the world, into a different hemisphere, to be with a man she'd met a year ago while backpacking through Europe. If this move wasn't a true test of the heart, I didn't know what was. I commended her and wished her nothing but the absolute best and all the love in the world, as she embarked on this adventure. I silently wished I was also that gutsy. But then I also realized there wasn't anyone I needed to move across the world to be with, so the wish thankfully dissolved quickly.
I came home a bit pensive. I couldn't help but keep going back to the conversation I'd had with my friend earlier that night. I saw the sadness in her eyes, and on some level, I wondered if mine reflected the same. I used to dwell on the "when is it going to be my turn" idea. But I realized that it wasn't helping me in any case (and besides, I've never been good at line-ups).
So I came up with a thought process, and tonight, I propose it to you, my friend:
Maybe the 'turn' is a bonus.
We enter this world as one and we leave as one. We don't get to take anything with us once we move on to the next volume. So, then, can't we argue that we should spend our lives trying to do the things that make us happy -- as one? Whether it's crafts (or glass blowing), going to concerts, reading books, going on travels, meeting people, whatever... shouldn't we ultimately spend our time on this earth figuring out what makes us smile all on our own?
Once that happens, we can look at anything else that comes along and gives us the same feeling as a bonus. And this includes that 'turn' we had talked about. It's just this icing on the.... life-cake (sorry, strange analogy, I know... but it's a good visual, no?)
If we could somehow find ways enjoy our lives with things that give us butterflies all on our very own, we'd perhaps be happy.
And anything else... love... winning the lottery... world peace... whatever -- well, those could just be bonuses. And if, by some chance, those things never came along... then we wouldn't leave this earth feeling as though we'd lost or missed out... because we'd still have life-cake... just without the icing (and sometimes icing is overrated, anyway).
... Just some thoughts for tonight.
P.s.: And for the record, I don't believe by any shot, that you will leave this earth without your icing! In fact, your difficulty might be deciding what kind of icing you want! ;) xo xo xo