the life project week 4: learning to dance in wellies...

If there was ever any question about whether or not I am rock and roll, well here is the answer...

No, no I am not.

In fact I am so un rock and roll, I had almost managed to get to the grand old age of 23 without ever really experiencing a music festival.

But this weekend that changed and I spontaneously lost my camping virginity too.

Let me explain fully...

Last weekend I was working/performing at Galtres Parklands Festival. I've known about this gig for months, I worked there last year, and never planned on camping. Galtres, I thought, wasn't too far from my family home, so I was just going to grab a lift there and back every day.

But turns out the new site for Galtres is actually about an hour and a half from my parents house, which would mean my dad doing a round trip of nearly 6 hours every day.

I was also performing much later this year than last.

I hadn't really figured it all out properly, and last Thursday, the day before the festival, I still wasn't sure what I was going to do about it. Then a friend pops up, turns out she has room for one more in her tent and I should camp with her.

Me, camp? But I don't even own a sleeping bag. And how would I shower? And wouldn't it be muddy? And should I really be having a bad nights sleep before a full day of children's workshops and performances? Besides don't you have to be cool for music festivals?

And then I remembered about The Life Project.

About how I am young.
About how I am meant to be trying new things.
About how I want to be the kind of person that makes the most of experiences and opportunities.

So I camped.

And I loved every minute of it.

Stood in a field, in the middle of the night, listening to a band that sounds like being 18 and learning how to dance in wellies, and I thought 'Do you know what, life is messy, but it's also kind of amazing'

Ok, maybe the thought at the time wasn't quite that poetic or coherent. That thought has been formulated over the past couple of days.

Once again a handful of my friends seem to be in the thick of a quarter life crisis. Not sure what they want to do. Scared of giving up a tidy life. Thinking it would be daft to give up the salary and commenting on how brave I am for doing what I am doing.

Here's the thing. I am the last person that expected me to be doing what I am doing. I LIKE having a tidy life. Some days I would love nothing more than a salary, a flat, a car, even a boyfriend.

But I can do with out because I am doing some thing I love.

I sympathise fully with my friends that are facing the scary idea of giving up all those tidy staples. Because I never had them, maybe I don't entirely know what I am missing, but then maybe they don't know what they are missing either.

This weekend I turn 23. When I was growing up I thought I'd be a real person by now, I actually thought I'd have a pretty glamorous life to be honest. I would never have believed that I would end up doing this, living in the flat that nobody loves, on very little money and not entirely sure how or when I am going to grow UP and settle DOWN.

I thought I'd have all the answers.

I don't, instead I am just taking every weekend and experience as it comes and that has taught me one thing.

Some times I feel like my life is a mess, like I am traipsing through mud, with no real direction just surrounded by field and fields of what can seem like nothing more than empty possibilities. Some times I close my eyes and imagine what it must feel like to slip on a pair of designer heels, lock the door to your own flat, and grab a taxi knowing exactly where you are going. And then I remember you don't need heels to go dancing in.

And if I can learn to dance in wellies, well, anyone can.