I am beginning a new chapter.
Counting pages.
I always love starting a new chapter in a book, especially when the first letter of the first word is really big (that’s called a drop capital, saved you the google). I began a new chapter of Dune, which I have scarcely begun, this morning. The grass I sat on was patchy and the tree I leant against was bare, but its branches carried new buds. It was the warmth and sunshine of a new spring day after a long, cold winter that encouraged me to take my book outside. I began reading my chapter, fully prepared to settle into the tome that is Dune. My rhythm was thrown into a tailspin, however, when the chapter I began promptly ended six pages later. Just as well, my spring day quickly turned blustery and reading in a park became quite odious
New chapters, I have learned, are not always so approachable. Currently, I find myself in a strange and sometimes frightening time in my life, one that I wasn’t prepared to face. It’s been a year and a bit since I graduated university and I’m still (rather tediously) searching. What, exactly, am I searching for? I’m not entirely sure. But I have an exhausting lack of consistency and surety in my everyday life. It’s not what I expected from my early twenties. I was under the impression that I would graduate, walk straight into a job and then… Well, I’m not sure what comes next in that picturesque sequence, but you get the idea. My life, however, is a far cry from the idea I once had.
To be frank: I am terrified. I have the nightmarish idea that I will become a waiter for now, while I find something more permanent. After years and hundreds of rejection letters from potential employers, I will be stuck in my service job, helplessly watching as the cost of living slowly overtakes minimum wage. I subsequently fall off of the face of the earth. Clearly my grasp on reality is weakened by fear. I’m sure this will never actually happen, but that logic doesn’t stop my quickening pulse when the thought revisits me. Sometimes I long for the safety of a predictable life.
The trouble is: it’s not all bad. Instead of jumping into the deep end of a forty hour work week straight after I was handed my Bachelor’s degree, I began a different journey. I started to write and take photos and read too many books for my own good. I worked for many employers, each in different creative industries. Choosing to be adventurous after university has brought me a wealth of barely believable stories, hard earned lessons and a wide array of perspectives. I am glad that I haven’t been tied down to one city or job. I am inclined to say that the last few months have changed me, but I don’t feel changed. I feel more like myself than I ever have. On the good days, of which there are many, I am happier, more fulfilled, more at peace than I ever imagined in my ‘traditional life journey’. It’s the difficult days that spread the seeds of doubt and fear. Writing this is reminding me that my future is probably brighter than an inbox full of rejection letters.
The chapter of Dune I read this morning was shorter than I expected, but I only realised that once I reached its end. I even went back and counted the pages in disbelief. Perhaps life is similar in some sense. The short days and frigid nights of winter in Berlin felt inescapable until the first sunny days of spring arrived and began thawing the population. Only today, when I wore a t-shirt and jeans without the accompanying coat, when I felt the sun on my face, when I began to sweat a little while walking to the U-Bahn, could I fully comprehend the end of a long, dark chapter coming to a close. On this spring day, however, my soul is stuck in winter. I am fearful and hesitant. I am clueless as to what tomorrow may hold. My hope is small and dormant. But perhaps, soon, buds will form on my branches and hope will blossom into opportunity, and it will finally be spring. And perhaps, then, I will flip back the pages of my twenties, counting them in wonder and disbelief.
All this talk of seasons and chapters began with my wishes for Jeremy’s Journal. As I grow (hopefully in creativity and skill, but certainly older), I want Jeremy’s Journal to grow with me. Of course, I want to make space in my schedule for things other than this blog: namely a way to earn an income, but also travel, exercise, maintaining a socially acceptable level of sanity. In order to do this, I am reducing Jeremy’s Journal’s publishing schedule from every weekday to once a week. As a child, I relished waking up early on Saturdays to watch cartoons, so as a reflection of how much I enjoy writing this blog, it, too, will release in the early morning each Saturday (relative to my timezone, GMT+2). You may also notice a change in length or content as I continue to stretch my skills and explore my interests, but rest assured that Jeremy’s Journal will continue to be just as heartfelt and occasionally witty as usual. I appreciate your continued support of this venture of mine. I hope to win your readership again and again, and hopefully the interest of a few more readers.