It’s funny to me that every so often I get in a very specific mood. I get the intense urge to create, to move, to be bigger, to be more. Usually this mood comes as a result of being comfortable, and in essence, bored.
This time around, it comes as a result of the shocking blow of heartbreak. It felt like my soul had it all figured out, was ever-so-abruptly proven wrong, and now begs the question, “What now?”
Once something has been broken, you can attempt to rebuild it exactly the same way it was, piece by piece, trying to find every fragment--then potentially lose your cool all over again when you realize that you might not be exactly the same as you were before. Or, you can feel the antsy anticipation of starting on a new path towards that movement, that need to do more and the need to be bigger. It seems silly to me now that at first I was supremely interested in the former; I wanted to have everything be the same. I wanted to rewind the past year of my life and slow down. I wanted to crawl under the memory of that life, hide from my mistakes, and hide from the pain that inevitably comes from any unsettling change. The last thing I wanted to do was acknowledge that the wedding was off, that the world as I knew it was coming to a screeching and terrifying end, and succumb to the thought that I was never going to be the same.
And then one day it hit me. I am still the same Cami Clayton that loves turkey sandwiches on sourdough bread. I still love getting lost in a book and dream of traveling the world in a good pair of leather sandals. I still want to be a freelance columnist for a community newspaper. I still have an incredible family that loves me, and friends that stick by me even when I'm a total and complete bonehead. I still want 5 children due entirely to my incessant viewing of "The Family Stone", and still think that the ocean can cure any ailment. I still love history books and believe that the written word is an art form all on its own. I still have the uncanny ability to recognize songs within 2 seconds of them playing. I still want to build my children a treehouse and live on a ranch. I still haven't mastered the art of cooking and most likely never will, because I still prefer plain M&Ms over almost any other food item. I still laugh at (probably) inappropriate jokes. I still delight in a slight breeze. I still love card games. I still appreciate the necessity of having fresh flowers in every room of the house. I still love the satisfaction that comes only from working hard for your money. I still look forward to loving freely and living my life in such a fashion that would make my parents proud.
Flaws and all, I am still me. The life I have lived thus far has taught me lessons of every kind and variety. Some have been astonishingly hard, and others have produced moments of happiness that I know will never be forgotten. All the lessons have made me who I am today, the Cami Clayton that is not afraid of the future but anxious to begin it.
"Go Confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined."