- Featuring a guest piece, by H.G. Nichols

Breathing softly, rythmically.

I am seeking something that would explain my life.

A word, a phrase to sum up my presence here in this world.

My body feels soft, smooth from the water. Soaking in a bathtub is a woman’s answer to longing. Can one soak away their troubles?

I assume this is my coming of age portion of my life. Where does the hypothetical life end and the real one begin? The real, grown up life everyone else seems to be living?

When I grow up I want to be a dancer, a painter, a writer, a singer, a deliverer. Peace Corps volunteer, philanthropist, dutiful wife cooking dinner and mending socks, loving mother pushing a stroller on a Wednesday at two in the afternoon. A business woman strong and confident.

As the dancer I would be graceful and long, thin and delicate. As the painter I would be slightly not in touch with the busy outside world, with little spots of paint on my shoes and under my fingernails. As a writer I would be deeply insightful, serious yet creatively funny and wittty, smoking like a chimney. As a Peace Corps volunteer I would be purposeful and off beat. My hair would be swept back in a ponytail, and I would never wear makeup with my khaki shorts and hiking boots.

Who am I? Does anyone ever come to know their true selves? This journey has no map, and we are left without a compass.