Sometimes I feel like I start to forget what it means to have “free time.” When I used to think of free time I’d picture myself with my friends, hanging out at a park throwing a frisbee, driving out to the lake to swim and jump off the cliffs, meeting up with people somewhere just to laugh and talk and hang out for a while; just having the time of my life without a care in the world. This is what my (jobless) freshman year of college looked like, in case you were wondering…
None of that’s really realistic for me anymore, though. I work two jobs and am taking what I feel like is enough college credits for two people. Free time is never really “free” anymore because sometimes I just have a hard time forgetting the millions of things that I know I have to do. It’s hard. But I chose this for myself, and I’m incredibly proud to say that I’ve really been handling everything quite well for the most part, but sometimes I want to escape. I want to be free again.
Most of the time I’m really proud that I’m a fully capable, mostly independent, young adult doing what adults are supposed to do, but there have been plenty of times I’ve just sat and totally mourned the loss of what I considered the epitome of carefree freedom. I’m starting to realize, though, that I don’t have to. There’s definitely no denying that I don’t do the same things I did when I didn’t do anything besides go to class and play, but I think that what it means to be free or carefree is all about relevance.
There’s a certain amount of mental toughness that I think one acquires as they grow up and have to face the real world, where no one cooks your meals and money isn’t handed to you anymore. We get used to constantly having an endless to-do list and putting work first, ourselves last. I hate that. In my mind, I should come first, work second, but when I started to feel like my priorities were starting to flip, I decided I needed something to change. I needed to feel happy and free again.
So I started treasuring every second I could afford not to be working to do something quick and spontaneous, just some random things that make me happy. I started riding my bike around nearby neighborhoods late at night (only the safe ones..don’t worry, mom) and throwing my hands in the air when I go downhill (it feels like you’re flying, try it). I now drive straight to the park with a blanket or my hammock every Sunday afternoon after church to people watch. I stay up just a little later to read books I love and wake up just a little bit earlier every now and then to squeeze in a run. When I do these things I don’t allow myself to think about school or work, I just go and enjoy. What’s more, I started making work more enjoyable by singing, loudly (judge away, friends), while I work, occasionally skipping to wherever I need to be (has to be one of the most joyful activities), and doing homework in coffee shops, where there’s always bound to be at least one person that I can’t help but smile when I look at.
As insignificant as these things may sound, combined they make me feel like I’m carefree even when I have a trillion things on my to-do list. I’ve found that carefree is a choice, not a circumstantial state of being. I’m currently working on staying a kid, while still maturing into adulthood and being a responsible human being. Busy and bothered are two different things, as are task-less and carefree. I’m starting to understand that my ability to feel free and happy are totally based on my state of mind and ability to find joy in some of the most simple, easy-to-achieve things. My little escapes have been my remedy; my cure to overwhelming busyness.
What will yours be?
The Transition Artist 