Imagine. You are no longer a human. You are one of the many unique species that populate this vast Earth. You now live as an animal that best represents your inner spirit, the creature you always knew you connected with on a higher, ethereal level. For me, there are no doubts in my mind that if some divine power were to snap their fingers and change my average, mundane being at this very moment, I would transform into a radiant and vivacious American bald eagle.
This is an obvious assumption. I would become an eagle, capable of soaring majestically over mountainous terrain as a symbol of power and freedom and the epitome of the avian world. There would be no limits to how far I could fly, how high I could go. The sky would no longer be the limit.
However, I am not a bald eagle, so it looks like I’m just gonna have to settle for being a struggling college grad with an arts degree for now.
Instead of all the cool, awesome, a-maz-ing things I could be doing right now as one of those magnificent feathery fiends—like dive-bombing through the air to hunt rodents as they run for their lives far beneath me—I’m stuck in human form, sitting at my computer for hours at a time, hunting for suitable job openings that have little to nothing to do with my degree. Dog-walker? Sure. Inspiration awaits every pee-stained fire hydrant! Target employee? Why not? The dollar section is filled with endless possibilities for creativity! Giant nest-builder in the highest of treetops, the rockiest of snowy mountaintops? In my dreams!
Now, there are certainly other animals I might become—maybe a great grizzly bear or a royal lion—but I’m still pretty sure I’d be an eagle. Nothing else in the animal kingdom can compare to the excitement and edginess and elegance that rumbles not on what I project to the world, but solely within me. I share my groundbreaking artistic ideas with my coworkers at my stifling day job, never actually acting upon those ideas but making sure they are known by all. I walk long distances across the city to get from place to place to find a suitable muse for my next creative endeavor...and to avoid paying the minor fee for using public transit. I miss payments on my student loans, not only because I don’t have the money to pay them but, more importantly, because I like to live on the edge. Hardship begets success, right? I live an artful life behind my average shell rife with wonder and grandeur and awesomeness, and it’s that inner bravado that translates directly to my being a bald eagle—if I were to actually be a bird.
But I’m not a bird. My skin is not covered in the warm brown feathers of an eagle. What is supposed to be my wide wingspan is currently wingless. My flight ability is confined to what I can do from an economy seat on the cheapest flight back home because life after college is too hard and I’m sure there’s some job waiting for me there where I can maybe make a comfortable living doing something I hate while also maybe doing some art on the side sometimes, if I feel like it.
For now, I am stuck in my average homo sapien form, endlessly searching for meaning in this dull, drab thing we call existence in a life after art school.
