So at 21… [Rootless]

To whoever decided that at 21 you are not entitled to have roots.

What started off as feeling like an old strong tree with profound roots now feels like a vast wound in the flesh of the earth. Where once was security is now uncertainty, lurking in the back of my mind with a tight grip on my fluttering heart. The young must leave the nest. This is a rule we are taught by nature. However, what happens with the nest? What to others might seem like a mere chaos of loose branches might mean HOME to someone. And when we leave it might just take a sudden storm to rock the branch, to swirl up soil, to unroot a tree.
Growing up means either extending those roots – or cutting them. Some call it liberation, yet others just feel like floating in thin air. If the cut is unexpected or unwilling you are left with no choice. An unrooted tree cannot be planted elsewhere without causing damage. In that case you might stand gazing at a hole in the ground, then gather up a fresh seed and find a new place to grow a home.

When you are 21, nobody tells you where to go looking for such a suitable piece of land. Chances are you are strolling around for a long time without roots. Without roots, how can you ground? How can you grow? When, in fact, everyone expects you to thrive at that age.

But at 21, you are not entitled to have roots. At 21 you
are lost, and finding something else. At 21 you go out finding what helps you grow, eliminating what harms you and you thrive on the smallest ray of hope that crosses your path. You might feel lost, but what other way could you be found? What other way can you find?

So at 21, you are not entitled to have roots. At 21 you
learn to accept finitude. And overcome it.