Bliss?

Follow your bliss.

Hm. An old adage adopted by hippies and peaceful people everywhere. Here in the liberal oasis that is Missoula, you get this advice from the bumpers of Subaru Outbacks and from the free spirited folk who wander the streets by the river. But these three little words have a lot packed into them. Follow (v. - to go or come after) may sound somewhat happenstance, but the trick is that the phrase instructs you to do it. No one else can do it for you. In a world full of people looking for someone to blame for their lot in life, this simple imperative statement stands up and says, "no, you follow your bliss." In my head, this would imply that the outcome of one's life his or her own responsibility. Not happy? Okay, well what would make you happy? Now figure out a way to do it. But perhaps it's easier said than done...

Here's the rub for me: At twenty-effing-seven years old, I feel like I should have a better idea of what my bliss is. In some ways, I'm approaching the proverbial crossroads. I'm on the path to a profession which excites me, and I'm at the beginning of the end of my overlong school career. But what next? I've got two problems, from what I can tell. First is my age. As I've mentioned, I took - oh, we'll call it the "scenic route" - through school. Turns out it was a necessary evil, because I'm pretty sure that back in 1997 (oh, shut it - it's not that long ago) when I first started college, I didn't have the drive nor the confidence to take the path I'm on now. I would have failed spectacularly, I imagine. Anyhow, fast forward to a few semesters from now - I'll be done with school and ready to unleash myself upon the world. Trouble is that I'll be 29. I'm sure it's a lovely age, but it seems like a late start on all the things I'd like to be doing, which brings me to problem two...
I love life. I'm a pretty content person, by and large. But there's so many things I'd like to do, and so many ways I can see myself being happy, that I just can't fathom actually choosing. Sitting here, I can see all sorts of future Mandis - there's the me that picked up all of the paperwork for the peace corps a couple of years ago, in case I didn't get accepted into the nursing program. There's the me I always assumed I'd be, which is a wife and mother. There's the me who would love to take a traveling nurse position, and work all over the country. There's a me who dreams of living in a big city, and still another who loves living in Montana. I like the view from where I am now, looking out at all of the possibilities. But I don't like the idea of giving any of it up. Once I decide on a path, some of these alternate identities will ultimately die. That makes me sad.

I suppose that instead of fussing about my lot in life, I could take a moment to be grateful for the fact that so many options are open to me. Unmarried, no children, no strings and only a little baggage. I can do pretty much anything I please, which to me is a rare and beautiful thing. At some point I'll have to pull on my big girl panties and make some real decisions, but for the moment I think maybe I'll sit and enjoy the blissful possibilities...