The rest is still unwritten.

Me and my Advertising Campaigns classmates senior year of college (many of us are still friends today). I thought I was on top of the world then. I had no idea. (I also have no idea why I struck some Peter Pan pose in the back.)

Me, in baggy jeans and cotton jacket, shuffling across the scuffed-up kitchen floor, singing, dancing, feeling more alive than I have in a long time. I scraped dried strawberry yogurt off the Little Tikes picnic table, and grumbled when I got some under my thumb nail (I hate that feeling), but still, I sang. I boiled a glass of water in the microwave, steaming off the splattered food particles that clung to the top and sides. Still, I sang. I sprayed, and wiped and swept…and sang. And danced. My toddler joined me in the kitchen, spun deliriously in a circle, and ran back in to join big sister on the couch and watch “choo-choo” (Thomas).

What was I singing? Why was I dancing? The song that defined my senior year of college, when dreams were unfettered and life was rolled out like a red carpet, or a yellow brick road, or a rolling green “Sound of Music” mountain top. “Unwritten,” by Natasha Bedingfield played on repeat in my office while I worked as an intern at the university’s advertising department. The creativity that had simmered in me since childhood was finally finding a purpose. Ideas and concepts flowed from brain to fingertips. It was then I began to realize I could actually do what I loved, and get paid for it.

Today, as I rediscovered this long-forgotten anthem, I felt a burst of anticipation, much like a child on Christmas Eve. This song, the one that promised “living life with arms wide open,” and “drenching yourself with words unspoken,” is what I have been living for the past seven months. Nobody else could speak the words on my lips. I have started the journey. I stared at the blank page, and I conquered it. I released my inhibitions. My book did begin. And that’s enough to make me sing.

Unwritten (Lyrics)

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you can not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can’t live that way

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you can not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

……….

 

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