Inaction; state of doing nothing. 

Sedimentary, idle, passivity. 

Waiting for something extraordinary to happen to me. 

In my 20 years I have accomplished little, educational achievements aside, which in the grand scheme of things, amount to very little anyway. As a child I would forever read books such as those by Enid Blyton and C.S Lewis. A favourite was Kensuke’s Kingdom by Michael Morpurgo. These stories would inspire, illuminating my imagination.  Something I feel slipping away from me with age. I was always confident that my life would lead me to similar adventures to the characters in the books I read. 

With age came disappointment. It seemed apparent that these story books, whilst offering a fantastical means of escapism, were lies. Nothing magical or adventurous ever happened to me. I nonchalantly plodded through my teenage years, doing as little as possible to do reasonably well in education. 

Now in my second year of university, my eyes have been opened. I have not been living. Friends tell stories of the places they’ve traveled to, the mountains they have climbed. It makes me feel ashamed that I have done so little with the time I have had. My only defense is that I feel I have retained somewhat of the childhood naivety from getting lost in so many stories as a child. 

Now is the time I grasp life and seek adventure and magic. How stupid I have been to expect to find it it the form of worlds-in-wardrobes without appreciating the true beauty of the world in plain sight before me.