Love, life

Right now I should very much like to be Russian, or at least to sit down in Russia to have tea with Dostoevsky. I am nearing the end of The Idiot, and I am reminded so forcefully why reading classics is so important. It really is amazing when you read a book that touches you so strongly, that articulates your deepest and most private thoughts aloud, that you thought no one else had ever experienced, and suddenly you realize that these emotions and struggles must be part of the universal human experience...because how else could someone set them forth almost 150 years ago, when culture, society, the state of the world, and life are all so completely different? The excitement is in the discovering, and not the discovery...true? Why then, do I find for the first time that I am afraid of the future? I am, I am afraid of not leading an extraordinary life, of not choosing the right career for fulfillment and family plans, of not directing my heart and mind toward the most valuable things. I have time, and in my head I know that these things are already planned for my best life, but still I wonder about decisions that will set the whole tone of the rest of my life. But no, life is an adventure, and an exciting one at that. And tomorrow is another day in which I get to live it out. And something I should remind myself of that I heard on the radio this morning, that life is good but eternal life is better. Even if I should have the best life, with the most happiness and meaning and love, how does it really compare to finally confronting the creator of all things? I can't quite imagine it, but I know it will be great.