When I was younger, my mom and aunts would take us out to fields and go snipe hunting. It is a basic enough concept. Snipes are birds that run really quickly and can't fly. They run away from loud noises and are virtually undetectable to the naked eye (which is why it is so important to have an experienced adult with you at all times). I remember taking hours out of our days to hunt in the fields around our Granny's house with my cousins. Although none of us had ever seen an actual snipe, we all KNEW that one day we would catch one. We were an army of one, with a singular mission: to capture the illusive snipe. After years of running around like fools, we came to the consensus that snipes don't exist (technically, they DID, but we extinct for about a century). Eventually, snipe hunting felt less like a mission and more like a con.
So why am I writing this?
Recently, I feel like my life has been a snipe hunt. I feel like someone said "Hey, if you run through this field, you will figure your life out. Trust me." I seem to be trying different ways of "catching" myself, so to speak. Even this whole project of trying different activities every month seems like it could end up being just another tour around the cornfield. I don't want it to be that way, so maybe I can just decide that instead of trying to find myself, I will try to find things that myself likes (what the HELL does finding yourself really mean, anyway?).
Just some thoughts for this rainy day. I will probably conclude this tonight.
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