young, dumb, & twenty-ish

Earlier tonight, I was walking along the beach, completely keeping to myself. I was in a rather bad mood. I passed a family of three– a woman, her husband and their son. The sun had just set and the moon was starting to cast a beautiful purple hue along the horizon. The little boy was just staring out at the horizon, so happy, so full of wonder and curiosity. I looked at him and followed his line of vision and I remember thinking “what is he looking at? There’s nothing out there.”

I had to stop myself dead in my tracks. “There’s nothing out there”? Nothing.

I walked a little further and just sat in the sand. I looked out to the horizon and tried to imitate the curiosity and wonder I saw in the eyes of that little boy. And I realized there’s not “nothing” out there. The ocean that little boy was staring at is endless. It goes on so much farther than we can see. We stand where the waves crash and completely forget how incessantly deep it is. How mysterious. Only 5% of the ocean is explored. Does anybody else think that’s literally insane? Five percent.

That kid was staring up at the sky. The stars were just beginning to peek through, the hues were swirling around each other, changing from blue to lavender to pink until it eventually reaches outer space. Outer space is infinite. There are billions of galaxies and universes and space is constantly expanding.

I guess that’s kind of a lot to think about. When you take into consideration how huge the ocean is and how huge the sky is. Yet, you can look out and see where they meet. And I had the nerve to say that there’s “nothing” out there.

I was so wrong. There is everything out there.

Noticing that made me feel kind of small. I mean, I am. We all are. Compared to all of that, how am I supposed to look up at that horizon and feel significant? How do my teeny tiny problems that I won’t remember in a few years compare to the vastness of the sky and the sea? They really don’t, I guess. You look up and you kind of realize how little your problems matter in the grand scheme of things.

But that’s the thing. They do matter. We say we won’t care in a few years, but we are living now and now, you can feel as small as you want, but your mind is your own world. The problems that consume your mind can feel bigger than the ocean and the sea and everything in between– trust me,  I know.

Today, I got my second tattoo. It says let it be, and I got it as a reminder that you can’t always have control of your problems. I am the type of person who always needs to feel in control. When I’m not, I get anxious and sad and I shut myself down. But look at my problems, and look up at the freaking sky and how huge it is and the ocean and how far it goes and feel that some things are meant to be out of your reach. It’s so silly to think you can have control of everything in this great, big universe.

I wanted to start this blog for so long, but I think I never really had the courage. Noticing how much we are surrounded by inspired me, truly. Everything isn’t meant to be perfect all of the time. Every day is not going to go as planned. But the waves still crash. The sun still sets and the stars come out every night and they fill up the entire galaxy and they remind us that we are here. We are here and everything is out there waiting for us. We just have to go and find it.