eighteen.

I have this dream where I go to Paris (or London, or Barcelona, I'm not picky) by myself, maybe, or with someone else, with no agenda at all. I wake up at my leisure, I wander the streets, I sit on a bench just to watch strangers walk by. I try to speak their language, I try their food, I gaze in shop windows. Perhaps I visit the tourist spots, perhaps I don't. I'm not rushed for anything, I've nowhere to be. It's such a beautiful dream that it causes a physical ache in my heart when I think about it.


Sometimes I look at my life and I try to put the clues together. I love words, I love foreign language, I love foreign authors. Pablo Neruda and Paulo Coelho, specifically. Their words speak to my heart. I skimmed a biography on Pablo and found myself in tears. I'm still not sure why. The Alchemist was published the year I was born. This feels important to me. This book about following the path that will lead to your dreams, about recognizing the signs, about putting the clues together. I wish I had faith enough to pour my soul into something I was passionate about and not worry that it was the wrong thing. I always thought I'd be sure of things, and that's how I would know they were right. As I get older, I'm starting to realize I might die without ever having been sure of a single thing.



Why why why? Why did I get into this debt? Why can't I even come close to paying it off? Why does it feel like there's a glass wall between me and my dreams? I can see them, but they're still no more attainable than images behind my computer screen. But all the signs say that if they are my dreams, I can reach them. There is a way. I need to take risks, but I don't even know what risks to take. The Bible says "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord chooses his steps" (proverbs 16:9). The same thing I've been hearing all along. Look for the signs, they are there, but I can't see them. Is this all crazy talk? Am I disillusioning myself to believe that my ridiculous dreams are possible? Am I completely naive? Or am I a warrior of the light? Will my ultimate happiness come from doing what others said I could not? What I thought I could not?

I really wish I knew.

seventeen

"What is a warrior of light?

Warriors of light keep the spark in their eyes.

They are in the world, are part of other people’s lives, and began their journey without a rucksack and sandals. They are often cowards. They don’t always act right.

Warriors of light suffer over useless things, have some petty attitudes, and at times feel they are incapable of growing. They frequently believe they are unworthy of any blessing or miracle.

Warriors of light are not always sure what they are doing here. Often they stay up all night thinking that their lives have no meaning.

Every warrior of light has felt the fear of joining in battle. Every warrior of light has once lost faith in the future.

Every warrior of light has once trodden a path that was not his/hers. Every warrior of light has once felt that he/she was not a warrior of light. Every warrior of light has once failed in his/her spiritual obligations.

That is what makes them warriors of light; because they have been through all this and have not lost the hope of becoming better.

That is why they are warriors of light.
Because they make mistakes.
Because they wonder.
Because they look for a reason – and they will certainly find one."

- Paulo Coelho