I’m in the city and it’s summertime and there’s this man in a suit and it just stopped raining. He’s holding a briefcase and his quick walk takes in a more businessman pace and soon a run, he is actually running down the sidewalk, weaving through tourists and locals and fellow businessmen alike, nearly taking each one out in the process. He must be going somewhere important, somewhere important enough to not be late to. Finally my sister and I are the obstacles in his track and have no choice but to get out of his way. As we do though, and just after he whizzes past, my sister yells “THERE’S MORE TO LIFE THAN RUSH”and he hears her and he looks back for half a second and I can’t tell if he heard exactly what she said or if he just heard something, but either way his pause is brief and then he’s back on his merry way and and so are we and I have never felt so content to be on a leisurely stroll through Boston and not running with briefcase in hand to some other oh so important place. I don’t even remember where we were walking to that day, but I remember the walk. There’s more to life than rush. I’m not sure what made her shout that out loud to him across the street, besides that it’s a line from a Chet Faker song (drop the game) that I’ve had on repeat for the past month, but I’m glad she did and I’m glad she says it all the time and I’m glad that, unlike the important or unimportant businessman, I listen. We have enough briefcases, and businessmen, and people who race down city streets in serious all black suits, in this world. No offense to business majors, but we don’t particularly need anymore and I have no interest in ever being one, or in even knowing immediately what I would rather be instead. I’m in no rush to figure out what I’m doing with my life because I think maybe “figuring it out” is the best part, better than when its all figured and set in stone and the mystery is gone. If I never get there, and spend my whole life doing the figuring, the traveling, browsing, trying, failing, meeting, adventuring, testing, tasting, seeing it all and discovering, I think that would be alright. I sometimes think that the whole point isn’t what you end up doing and being; it’s all the stuff before that that really matters. I am ok with having no idea where I’ll end up or who I’ll be or be with at the end, until the very end. What’s the point of deciding, settling down, giving up, finishing, before the end? To me that sounds like an early accepted demise and I prefer life.