I wish my spirit guide was a space coyote…

Like this one...

I think I need to go on a vision quest. Or do drugs in a national park, but I think that amounts to the same thing.
I need some sort of meerkat spiritual guide to slap me with its little hand-shaped paw and say, “Idiot! This is what you’re supposed to be doing! What you’re doing now is just wasting valuable time!”

Thanks, little meerkat. I’m working on it.

Problem is, my generation (and the adjacent ones, I’m sure) is soft. We’re like putty. Our parents told us that we can “be anything we want to be.” Awww, does my widdle pwecious snowfwake want to be an astronaut doctor cowboy? Well, baby, if you wish it, you can be it.

False, y’all.

Now there are a bunch of twenty-somethings (okay, me), who change their career paths every twenty minutes. Ad exec? No, wait: lawyer! I lied, I’m totally going to be a writer. Wait, no, speech pathologist. I LIED AGAIN: ASTRONAUT DOCTOR COWBOY!

Sometimes I wish we could revert to some kind of caste or feudal system. Can you imagine the freedom of not having existential crises every twenty goddamn minutes? You could just work on being the best serf you could be. And any time you had delusions of having a different life, someone would beat the thoughts out of you. Ahhh, bliss.

So, I guess what I’m getting at is: does anyone want to go to Joshua Tree with me?

One response to “I wish my spirit guide was a space coyote…

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