One size does not fit all

I could take this metaphor in many directions, particularly with regard to my own life path and way of being in the world. For much of my life, I have tended toward the path less traveled, yet I spent a great many years worrying about feeling like an anomaly, inadequate and ill prepared to move with the accepted ebb and flow.

Just as my name caused me to stand out (much to my chagrin) when all I wanted was to fit in, my way of being in the world never seemed to fit the cultural and social norms valued by my peers and elders. I remember distinctly a moment when I was between the ages of 12 and 13 when I finally gave up trying to fit the definition of femininity in the suburban community where I lived and traded in this identity for one that felt much more comfortable – my mom’s old levis and flip-flops underfoot and Bob Dylan’s voice guiding the way.

Of course, it is never so simple for long. I have moments of cherishing my name, my wild mane, and my inescapable marieke-esque way, but there are moments when I wish for a simpler path where I am able to accept the status quo, cross my t’s and dot my I’s with joy, and not wish for more out of my time on this planet.

Balance is not the path of most life and systems on this dynamic planet we inhabit, and there is much I have experienced over the decades and certainly the past two years that feels more like entropy and chaos. Yet, out of chaos there is empowerment, joy, and a sense that I am taking the steps toward a sustainable self, in keeping with who I am and the choices in life that inspire passion and innovation.

I may not weigh enough to cut the grass on my riding lawn mower without sitting on a bag of dog food, but I never have to worry that I am leading a dull life devoid of adventure.



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