All Who Wander Are Not Lost

From Wilfrida's Closet art card collection (HERE)

BY LAUREN SNELGROVE

Wilfrida's Closet Staff

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”-Dr. Seuss

Who the heck thought up the term “worry wart?” What a repulsively juicy description for a person with a bad habit. And yet, it's so fitting.

A wart is a growth that most commonly appears on hands or feet—body parts that get us to where we need to go and allow us to do the things we need to do. And what happens when a nasty, painful wart appears on our hands or feet? We're handicapped. We're slowed down. We can't go to where we need to go, or do what we need to do, as easily or as well.

Worrying keeps up from living out our full potential. How might I know? My name's Lauren, and I'm an ex-worry-addict. My poison was to worry over what I was going to do with my life, constantly.

For a long time I was driven by a fierce pressure to succeed. With incredibly supportive parents, I was often told that this pressure was fabricated by my own mind, that no one was putting it on me. But certainly a little girl couldn't feel such an urgency to perform, to become, simply because. I look around me, and I see this urgency in many young people.

We live in a technologically connected world that allows us to compare ourselves to literally everyone else out there. The world is such a small place now that a global community exists through the wonders of a digital age. This is such a beautiful thing but danger ridden just the same.

Between Youtube videos, blogs, internationally broadcasted talent shows and news bites, the beauty and brains of the world are widely publicized for all to see. Big stars are getting younger and less people seem to be aging. The quest for perfection appears to be fueled by the vast global competition.

I have so many friends and family members that I've seen swallowed by discouragement or beat down by intimidation, by fear. They've been deterred from their dreams because they don't feel good enough. They've tried following in the footsteps of their favorite celebrity or renowned expert of their field, and it's not working.

Instead of following in someone else's imprints, why not make your own? Write your own story. Think outside of the expectations of society, of your family or any establishment. Stop worrying about where Steve Jobs, Hilary Clinton, or J.K. Rowling was at your age, and just focus on what you love and who you are.

We don't have to keep up with technology, either. We're only human—we'll never be as fast as computers, so why are we racing around so much? Modern technology allows us the opportunity to slow down in many ways. Plus, unlike my parents or grandparents, there is no social pressure to have a career and family before the age of thirty. So again I must ask, what's the rush, guys?

I know too many people who have had mid-life crises, people who have panicked over a work-driven life or a dwindling clock that reminds them they still haven't done things they want to. Our country's life structure seems to be: work ourselves to the bone until retirement and then go live out our suppressed dreams, adventures, and vacations. And yet things like yoga and meditation are growing wildly popular as if there's a desperate, pandemic call for balance in people's lives.

Taking this 708 foot bungee plunge taught me how to face my fears in life.

I'm still trying to learn what balance really means. I've started by resisting the habit of worrying. I'm also choosing to live life in the reverse of many Americans. I'm choosing adventure and exploration before I settle down to a career, a family. While financial stability is certainly alluring I can't help but wonder what good it all is if I wake up at forty-five and wonder if I'm “really happy,” and then make radical, life-changing decisions when I have three kids and a mortgage.

In the times I'm tempted to worry about my life (usually when I hear about my high school classmates that are at Harvard Medical School, or software developers at Google), I remind myself that I've done the world's highest bungee jump, had breakfast with Desmond Tutu, held hands (or trunks) with an elephant, and made it out of foreign cities alone and alive. Why can't I call those things success? I've deviated from society's path of expectations and still encountered wonderful—though different—opportunities.

I'm going to take the time to change my mind eighty-seven times, to live in twelve different countries, to begin and end twenty different hobbies, to fail--right now, while I'm young. I'm not going to worry about where I'm headed, I'm going to enjoy where I am. And I'm going to do my best not to compare myself to the most successful people or even just the ones I went to high school with.

Adventure and exploration for you may mean something other than travel or bungee jumping, and that's fine. I am who I am, you are who you are, and we all have the power to write our own stories. So stop the wrinkle lines from deepening and find the courage to live life the way you want to, the way your gut is pushing you to.

We never truly know how to take the whole, "live each day like it's your last," thing to heart, until we are one day forced into contemplating the reality of it. Don't be afraid of dying before you get the chance to do the things you want to; be afraid of choosing a life that keeps you from doing them.

And remember, all who wander are not lost.

Please, Don't Go!

BY RITA

Say it ain’t so! Is this really the time to give us more bad news? It’s been recently announced that the U.S. Postal Services will have cutbacks, including a halt in Saturday delivery. This is ok, compared to the worst of it: impending bankruptcy, closing entire post offices, and the idea that we could loose our beloved right to daily mail service. We could lose our opportunity to receive bills, junk mail, magazines, and an occasional, rare but treasured, personal note or letter.

The post office has not asked us, the customer, for our thoughts on how to make it better, though anyone who stands in a line for twenty-five minutes to send a package does have some good ideas. My thoughts? Staff up and stock up during peak seasons. Staff up for lunchtime, not the middle of the afternoon, just before the office closes.

The other day I was at the post office around noon, standing behind eleven people in line with one window open for service. The second employee is on his way out for lunch. I watched the lone postal worker put her hands to her face, very seriously, in a Home Alone moment and say, “You can’t leave me like this, I’m the only one here!” The departing employee only mumbled, “I have to take my break.”

I started to time transactions. Each took close to five minutes per person. Each customer had so many questions and I watched several people just forfeit the line saying, “This is just not worth it.” I looked around to see signs that read, “We have all your mailing and packing supplies,” over mostly empty shelves and holders.

The empty window became the de facto spot for dropping off pre-paid packages, a visual to-do list stacking up next to the poor gal behind the counter. People dropping off these packages would cautiously move ahead of the waiting line, announcing with hands in the air, “Just dropping off packages, not taking cuts!” One woman expressed her fear that the line might actually turn on her.

The lone worker was doing a good job. She announced to the all that she graduated postal school just the day before. I watched her hands move to her forehead and slide to her cheeks in despair, as she bravely forged on. The line remained a steady twelve to fifteen people, snaking out the door.

A darling, young French couple in front of me was chatting and offered congratulations for surpassing the French Postal Service in both attitude and speed. Several of us in line thanked them and shared our collective pride with eye rolling and sighs.

This post office was my former neighborhood substation with fun, kind, and helpful people. When it opened six years ago the team told me they had requested transfers away from the “big location” because their “co-workers were crabby.” Is this the result of all the cutbacks, weaning funds, and drastic changes occurring in our country’s postal service?

There are some good people working for the U.S.P.S as well as not! But the fact is, the post office is a business and needs to be run like one. While companies are going green and turning digital, our need for the postal service still remains. Don’t fail us now!

I bemoan and I mourn the impending passing of what Benjamin Franklin left to us—an amazing system of communication and courier services that has a great history and legacy. Please Santa, fix the postal service!