Turns out being 26 is as confusing and annoying as being 16. Ten years ago, I used to think that my problems were bigger than anybody else's because they were mine and the world just didn't seem to understand this or to care. As the years passed I gained some sense of proportions and while I'm still selfish and think my problems are as real as can be even when they're not, I'm at least trying not to make such a big deal out of it. But this still doesn't change the fact that I'm clueless and have no idea what the next step should be.
The good news, however, is that if this is a cycle then all I have to do is wait one more year and things will be clear, I'll have a plan, a map, a new destination and some brand new adventures on the horizon.
In the meantime I am pleased to discover that dancing is a more efficient therapy than lying on a couch and whining about my fictional problems. And even if it fails to put me back on track, at least when that moment comes, I'll be more than happy to practise my steps on the new found path.
1 comment:
Dancing as therapy sounds rather nice. I guess I'll give it a go.
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