Mandy Marjorie

Wild Heart Wisdom # 34

You Are Allowed To Be A Little Unreasonable About Your Own Life

Dear Wild Hearts,

I have developed a rather strange habit of defending perfectly innocent things before anybody has even questioned them.

"I know it's silly."

"I don't really need it."

"It's probably a waste of time."

"I'm only doing it because..."

And I would like to know, for the record, who appointed the imaginary committee that is apparently overseeing my enjoyment of being alive.

Because I have questions.

When did being a grown woman start meaning that every little delight required an explanation? At what point did we decide that enthusiasm was something to be moderated, as though getting excited about things somehow made us less capable of being taken seriously?

I spent enough years trying to be sensible.

I know the appropriate facial expressions. The responsible answers. The importance of looking like I know what I'm doing, even when I am improvising with varying degrees of success.

But underneath all of that is a person who still wants to be surprised by her own life.

Someone who wants to try the strange flavour on the menu. Wander through unfamiliar little shops. Spend an afternoon learning something she may never become particularly good at. Stop to examine an interesting-looking stone as though she's just discovered a priceless archaeological artifact.

And yes, there will be days when I feel too tired, too distracted, or too terribly grown-up for any of it.

That's alright, too.

Joy isn't another assignment we're supposed to complete.

But I refuse to let adulthood become one long, polite exercise in pretending I don't care about the things that light me up.

I don't want to become so concerned with appearing composed that I forget what it feels like to be wonderfully, gloriously, embarrassingly excited.

So here's what I'm working on.

When something makes me happy, I'm going to stop rushing to explain it away.

I'm going to let myself enjoy it.

Openly. Enthusiastically. Without immediately following it with a disclaimer.

And if somebody asks why?

Well.

Because I wanted to.

Because I enjoyed myself.

Because, for a little while, it made being