Merry-go-round, round, round, round....

Life.

I don't really have any of it figured out. I turned 31. Am I supposed to be any further along? Let's check the evidence:

Relationship with God? Yep
Married? Nope
Children? Nope
Homeowner? Nope
Significant other? Nope
401K? Nope-ish
Loving friends and family? Yep
Expensive shoes? YEP (okay I made that one up)

Okay so there it is. I have 3 out of 8. Granted, I have the most important one (no not the shoes). But if I were a fraction on Sesame Street, The Count would totally have me pegged.

Maybe I should be looking to an older post, even (gasp) my entries on myspace for an answer. It seems...I deal with the same reoccurring themes in my life. Maybe we all do. Over and over, round and round...like a carousel.

My childhood merry-go-round experience was always the same. I always, always, always was drawn to the pink and blue pearlescent horses. The raised ones (some horses are "down" and others are "up"), with their "manes" wild and free, with some sort of gorgeous bow tied in it or on it. The second I spotted one, I was a goner everytime. With a gold, pink or other color saddle I would literally RUN to the horse the second I was allowed to get on, completely sure that every kid was running to the same gorgeous horse as mine. (Clearly I didn't get the memo that the most coveted was that sweet little carriage/sled that was actually comfortable to sit in.) As a younger child, my dad would come with me and stand behind me the whole time. I would saddle up, hang onto the brass pole and perch. My favorite thing to do would be to either look at myself in the mirror opposite of me on the carousel (duh) or stare at the crowd looking for a familiar face; a friend, parent, dog or anyone who was surely captivated by this beautiful princess (me) sitting atop my gorgeous unicorn-esque horse.

Surprisingly, I didn't ever get sick (well, I don't think I did...). But, as time usually does, it went on, and I grew older. Eventually, I quit riding the merry-go-round. In fact, I haven't ridden one in years. There was once that time in Bryant Park where I had a nostalgic whim to saddle up and quickly changed my mind when I literally thought I was going to be airborne as the carousel cranked up. So that was it. Chapter over, door closed.

Well for those of you who don't know, I am a professional caretaker. My Merry-go-Round days are just getting started. Not that I have had to face one quite yet, but I know it's coming. The other day however, I was with my best friend and we were actually discussing Carousels (you should hear our conversations when we are drunk)! And I guess, I have been thinking about them ever since.

I mean that's what life is, isn't it? It's like this huge merry-go-round. I am talking HUGE. We all start at different points, getting on at different places, finding a comfortable place to stay as we hang on like hell, hoping we survive. Every rotation is like a year. It never stops. And we never get off.

What I wonder is this: how many of us on this carousel of life do what I did when I was little? How many of us look to the outside, other circumstances, to keep us going around; to keep us moving? Or look beside them, trying to see how they look instead of what they are actually doing?

Clearly I am a victim of it. In this current 31st year of my life, I perpetuate the majority of my decisions on outside factors: who is saying what, who is doing what, who is choosing what....I look so hard to see what is going on around me that I don't realize the horse I am sitting on is rusting. It could literally be disintegrating right in front of me and I am busy looking outside to try and fulfill my aforementioned checklist instead of appreciating the splendor I should be enjoying (or deterioration).

If only we looked down. Looked within. Stopped worrying about the outside. And listened to ourselves. I wonder what would happen. Would we get more attention? Less motion sickness? Less worried? I'll tell you one thing, I am tired of trying to find people in the crowd. I am so sick of looking in that mirror behind me, paranoid about all it says about me.

I want to notice the paint chips on my horse. Feel the breeze on my cheeks as the carousel makes its way around yet another New York autumn. Catch the glitter of the paint on my horse's ribbon in the glint of the sunlight. I want to look up and be totally surprised.

It all sounds so simple I know. But isn't simplicity something we all strive for? It's time to look within. Since we are stuck on the merry-go-round anyway, we should just try, just for fun, to make the most of it. Stop worrying about what's going on around us, behind us, or even reflecting right in front of us. Live in the moment. Truly live. Live on that carousel and hang on like hell. Or don't. Let go, but find yourself right where you should be: in the moment. That's all we can ask for.

And it's just a little something I'm working on.