Filling in my States

    Today is a very special day in my life. Today is the birthday of the most inspiring person to ever have been a part of my life.
       
      Motz:
             You are the inspiration for this blog. It didn't matter how much crap you went through, I never saw you without a smile on your face. So today, I'm dedicating my blog to you. Love you, Motzy.

And, also in honor of Motz, I would like to share with you an essay that I wrote in English III my junior year (which was last year). It fits the current situation, and I will explain why at the end.

Filling-in My States

             I love reading. I’ve loved reading my whole life. In kindergarten, I was so proud of myself because I could read a chapter book. Granted it was a “chapter book” written for young kids, but I didn’t know that then, so I was psyched. The summer after my seventh grade year, I kept a list of books I had read that summer; my goal was to read one hundred books before school started again. Now I just keep lists of books that I read each year. In 2011, I read thirty-two books (I know that sounds lame compared to one hundred in a summer, but that summer, I didn’t have anything else to focus on or worry about, and I had several hours in the car while we traveled). One of my absolute favorite classes has always been English because I become exposed to more literature. In my Junior English class, we studied the Romantic period. Sometimes, people ask me if I think I should have been born in a different decade. I find that to be an interesting question, because there’s not really a “should have” about it. I was born into the twentieth century; that’s just how it is. But, if I could have chosen when to live, the Romantic period would have been a major candidate. I love the idea of worshipping nature, and  I love the idea of hating corporations. When my English teacher gave us a list of books to choose from, I chose to read Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. When I was in the middle of it, I thought it was a captivating book, but I had no idea the kind of effect it would have on me once I finished it. I’ve told my parents that if I ever choose to load my 1989 turquoise Jeep Wrangler up with a few of my possessions and take off on a random trip across the country (which is quite possible), they can blame Mrs. Wilkinson.
             About a month before the beginning of our study of the Romantics, I had a doctor’s appointment; it was one of the most memorable appointments I’ve ever had. I was feeling really well for the first time in almost a year, so I was expecting them to tell me that I was doing well, or that they were proud of me. That wasn’t the case at all. Most people don’t discover reality until they are at least thirteen years of age. Due to the fact that I spent most of my childhood in the hospital, I had some subconscious idea of the fact that life is not a fairy tale; money does not grow on trees; we are not invincible; therefore, life is short. My parents have done a superior job of making my life easier and more fun, and that made it easier for me to imagine the fairy tale land. I’ve known it not to be true most of my life, but it really hit me, like a eighteen-wheeler speeding down the freeway, at that doctor’s visit, when my doctor told me I should plan my future based on the quality of lung transplant centers across the country. She said St. Louis, Missouri has the best center. That broke my heart because all my life I’ve been planning on attending college and living the rest of my days somewhere around Denver, Colorado. I love being up there, in the mountains.  When I’m there, it feels like I’m home, even though, throughout my entire life, my literal home has been in Aztec, New Mexico. Don’t get me wrong, I love St. Louis, but it’s not Denver. The next few weeks, I went to school, but I wasn’t very focused. It was all sort of like a dream. I kept thinking “So I get a transplant within the next 4 years… Then how long have I got?”  Then we started the Romantic period, and I read Into the Wild really quickly because it was appealing. After Krakauer published Into the Wild, many people said McCandless was stupid for taking off into the wild, but, while it might not have been the smartest thing to do, it’s what he wanted, and it’s what made him happy. Why do we have to be judged for what makes us happy?         
I noticed my attraction to that book when it was time to return them, and I had lots of trouble parting with it. Several times, I almost bought my own copy, just to have it. Christopher “Alexander Supertramp” McCandless has been buried in my heart, and I think about him and his miraculous, but also fatal, journey almost every day.  Sometimes, when I think about McCandless, I also think about my first, second, and third grade teacher, Susan Motz. When she retired, her and her husband sold their house, hitched their Open Road camper trailer to their ripe tomato-red pickup truck, and drove. Every summer, they’d come down and stay at a trailer park near Vallecito, Colorado. On the side of their camper trailer, they had a map of the United States with a sticker for each state they had spent at least one night in. That could very easily be me. I want all my states to be filled in.  Though I would never hitchhike, and I would never stray from the marked trail in Alaska during the winter, and I would never disappear without telling someone where I was going (all of these being things McCandless did), I could very easily just get in my car and travel. Before I read that book, I knew some people chose to live a vagabond lifestyle, but I never really thought about it, not this deeply.
  Some people find comfort in routine. Upon figuring out they only had a few years left, those people would continue on with their lives, going to school or work every day, carrying on with their normal routine. Maybe they’re trying to forget about death. I’m the opposite. I want to see the world; I want to embrace the nature, and enjoy it while it’s still there. If I only have a few years left, then why am I going about the same routine every day? Why do I drive the same route, fifteen minutes of my life both ways, to school every morning and home every evening? Why, when I get home, do I sit down at my computer and do my homework? I feel like a robot! I feel like a fish, stuck in the same current, just going in circles and never going anywhere with life! Into the Wild was a remarkable book, and I’m mostly glad I read it; however, some days I wish we hadn’t learned about the Romantics because now, I feel like I’m missing out. By forcing me to go to school, I feel like the government is wasting my life. All because of 250 pages, I’m rethinking my whole future. 

Now, here I am, six months later, and my life has changed completely. I've still got a few things tying me down and preventing me from loading up that Jeep (which is currently in a different state).  However, things aren't all bad. So I had to move. It's just the first step to filling- in my states.
Thank you, Motz and Doug, for being the inspiration for this essay as well. This essay changed my life, it helped me realize what I really wanted to do. So thanks. :)