My Fearful, Drugged Rant
I drove along the outskirts of the part of town I first attained my independence with the windows down, music blaring, and tears washing my face with the nostalgia of yesteryear. So many opportunities wasted on the desires of my youth and restless naivety in those days. It is in the shadows of this past that so many of my regrets lie. All those parties. All those late nights. I lacked discipline and structure. But the thing I lacked most was the passion behind my dreams. The motivation. I remember, though, what was most present in my soul those younger days. FEAR. I have many fears but none so strong as my fear to fail or my the fear of not being good enough.
In my high school days it was easy to get the highest grades, pass difficult tests, and make good marks in every aspect of my life. School, work, and church. I was more focused on meeting everyone's expectations of me that I had no idea what my own expectations were of myself. I knew what I liked, I knew the things that stirred my heart and put a lighting flame to my soul but I pursued none of them with the passion I should have. My most secret dream was not me being a mother, a wife, or anything spectacular. I dreamed of being a librarian/writer.
The more I meditate on these things and the things that are really, truly deep within, the more I realize I never wanted to be a journalist. Yet, that was what I attempted to study in college. And I FAILED. I tell myself that I stopped, no I quit because I got married, had kids, blah blah blah. But the truth is, there was no passion or intent in that decision. There was no goal because it was not my dream. I don't even know where that idea came from. Maybe I made it up to make myself sound important and grand. To sound like I was going places in life.
The way we measure success these days seems plastic. Money, achievements, trophies, medals, titles, ownership of things, opulent purchases of opulent things, and even the things we have in abundance over those who are un-abundantly "blessed." And all the timelines. To be happy and successful, you should finish college by this age, figure out everything by this age, get married and have children by this age, etc, etc. Who in bloody hell set these damned timelines? These timelines that fight against the worth of my struggles and work up to this point!!
Anywho, I digress in this spaced out rant. (I took some Benadryl for the allergies....pollen is an ass.) I drove down a lane in my past and discovered my truest desires. I've made some choices along the way that took me off the yellow brick road to my emerald city to claim my golden ticket to the realization of my dreams. But today, this changes. I put the car in reverse, drove out of that shit hole called my past, and turned on brights, heading down a dark and scary road. I may fail. I may not. But if I make decisions out of my FEAR to fail, then I'll never know.
In fear, we lose it all. In love, we win everything. Love comes in many forms. Love is embracing the fear, letting it go, and reaching for the prize we knew we'd get all along.
In my high school days it was easy to get the highest grades, pass difficult tests, and make good marks in every aspect of my life. School, work, and church. I was more focused on meeting everyone's expectations of me that I had no idea what my own expectations were of myself. I knew what I liked, I knew the things that stirred my heart and put a lighting flame to my soul but I pursued none of them with the passion I should have. My most secret dream was not me being a mother, a wife, or anything spectacular. I dreamed of being a librarian/writer.
The more I meditate on these things and the things that are really, truly deep within, the more I realize I never wanted to be a journalist. Yet, that was what I attempted to study in college. And I FAILED. I tell myself that I stopped, no I quit because I got married, had kids, blah blah blah. But the truth is, there was no passion or intent in that decision. There was no goal because it was not my dream. I don't even know where that idea came from. Maybe I made it up to make myself sound important and grand. To sound like I was going places in life.
The way we measure success these days seems plastic. Money, achievements, trophies, medals, titles, ownership of things, opulent purchases of opulent things, and even the things we have in abundance over those who are un-abundantly "blessed." And all the timelines. To be happy and successful, you should finish college by this age, figure out everything by this age, get married and have children by this age, etc, etc. Who in bloody hell set these damned timelines? These timelines that fight against the worth of my struggles and work up to this point!!
Anywho, I digress in this spaced out rant. (I took some Benadryl for the allergies....pollen is an ass.) I drove down a lane in my past and discovered my truest desires. I've made some choices along the way that took me off the yellow brick road to my emerald city to claim my golden ticket to the realization of my dreams. But today, this changes. I put the car in reverse, drove out of that shit hole called my past, and turned on brights, heading down a dark and scary road. I may fail. I may not. But if I make decisions out of my FEAR to fail, then I'll never know.
In fear, we lose it all. In love, we win everything. Love comes in many forms. Love is embracing the fear, letting it go, and reaching for the prize we knew we'd get all along.
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