A few months ago I wrote a short story here. It was called Heartworld Transformation Fairy Tale and it told a little magical story about a person who transformed their heart and then learned how to open it up to others, to give and receive. At some point the person gets hurt and has to start over, but the moral of the story is that you always can. The soil on the grounds of your heart world, when properly cared for, gives endless abundance. The story was inspired by a time when a customer of mine at the burger place opened his heart and home to me to spend beautiful family time with him and his lovely little son. We watched movies together and cooked together and often times I would just sit and work on my poetry while he did his programming job. He was a beautiful person and he gave me the family type warmth that I miss so much being away from my parents and brothers.
So I was inspired to write that story, but I think that at the time I didn't understand nearly as well as I do now the power of transforming my heart--giving it strength, power, and fearlessly exposing it over and over and over, as a practice--and the way that would open me up to and attract so many loving and deeply complex souls. When people open up to you, it's like staring at the ocean in the sun: you see the incredible light reflecting off the surface and can only feel, sense, and imagine what is in its grand mysterious depths. Now that I have gotten to a place where my heart is almost always open to others, I have started to feel a closeness to people in my everyday life, even those I don't necessarily have a large or varied relationship with, a closeness I never could have imagined. And a true reciprocation of energy and of caring with people. And it fills my days with surprise gifts of kindness, warm words, people offering help or guidance, people sharing things (food, matches, their feelings, their ideas, their art, their smiles) and even outright giving me things that I didn't even ask for, just because it makes them feel good.
My life has become profusely full here in Portland. And I realize now that I did create it that way, by daring myself to improve. From not long after I got here I opened my heart up by giving to the community through volunteer work and by joining a spiritual community, and by working a job that I really didn't enjoy with people who I really did love to be around. Going on a meditation, doing yoga for a little bit, learning how to become an independent and free spirit, taking counseling, reaching out for help when I was afraid and feeling helpless, practicing communication and developing relationships out of thin air--all of these experiences have helped me to grow and to open up. And along the way I have picked up a wide array of incredible connections. And recently I was blessed with an incredible new job where I met three coworkers who are by far some of the most incredible people I've ever had the good fortune of working with. And while one of them left, we still see one another, have a profound friendship, and she is still present in my heart every work day. (Her cubicle used to be next to mine. And her old nameplate is sitting on my desk right behind my laptop at home as I type this.)
One of them became my carpool buddy and we have incredibly open and simply astounding conversation every morning and afternoon on the drive that centers and grounds me spiritually in a way I never would have thought I could receive on a simple carpool drive. He is one of the most generous and thoughtful people I have ever met. Everyday he surprises me with something--usually it's an abundance of fascinating thoughts and feelings and a handful of completely unnecessary out-of-his-way kind gestures to me and others. He also makes me laugh. And he makes me notice things, and take a breath. I remember when I met him he was "the guy who also used to serve, just like me, and was kind and practical when he trained me." But back then I only knew him on a surface level and I had no idea of the beauty underneath.
And the third is a person I didn't even notice for at least a month of working just a few cubicles away. But in retrospect, I remember now that during that month he came several times to my cubicle, while I was still new and scared and learning my job, and he offered me little odds and ends to help me with my training. I remember he was quite shy and shaky and gave off such a powerful energy it would always stop me in my tracks. But he would just stop by for a moment and then just like that gone, back to his desk. And the most I did back then was to think "Well what a strange and nervous little thing he is.... and I wonder why he gives me things..." Well anyway time passed and somehow we connected. And getting to know him has been absolutely among the best experiences I have had at my job, and in my life in general. He is talented, intelligent, interesting, funny and kind. And he's not nearly as shy once he knows you. He has a fabulous personality and so much to share. And hell, I was probably just as shy when I got to my new job, I just never saw it reflected back at me so vibrantly. Vulnerability is positively captivating, honorable, and brave. I admire him for creating and nurturing our connection, even when I was absent-minded and scattered by information overload early on.
The moral of this story is for god's sake open your heart. And not just to your family and close friends the people you already "trust." Learn to feel safe opening your heart to everyone. Practice doing it in little ways all day long with everyone who passes through your day. Then try doing in bigger ways with new people you've never given to or shared with before. Respect your own boundaries and never give or share in any way that makes you feel unsafe. But this practice of opening my heart has been the absolute key to my happiness.
(This was written in approximately July of this year of 2015...)
Ok, so I haven't posted in a while. I will warn you that this blog compensates for my sabbatical by being extra long and dramatic and particularly self-absorbed (or to put it nicely "reflective"). So if this is a "TL:DR" type of situation for you instant gratification types, the highlights are in bold and italics. To start with:
I haven't written because I've been in a sort of mental paralysis for the last two months.
You see, Portland is kind of the most crazy awesome place I've ever been to in my life. And I've made a surprising amount of friends here in a very short amount of time. I lived in Iowa for over three years and had half as many friends there as I do here. But Portland is the most friendly place I've ever lived, so I don't give myself that much credit for it. I mean, you can make a friend on the bus without even trying (if you're open minded). That's all good right?
And I am proud to say that about a month after living here, at age 25, I did finally learn how to make friends without any pretext. I learned how to strike up conversations with strangers and express interest in getting to know them without really worrying about failure. All it took was finding out the worst thing that happens is they say, no thanks. And that really isn't so bad if you don't take it personally. If you really have to, you can even just pretend they probably have chronic diarrhea and so can't really get too close to anybody. If I would have learned how to socialize in college, I would have made a lot more friends. I was a weird girl who looked comfortable and confident and probably pretty approachable while speaking during class, but sprinted out the door the minute it ended, so as not to accidentally be spoken to--which would only lead to horror, sweating, twitching, and vocal paralysis... But we all learn at our own pace. So hooray!
Without having any idea how I did it, I have managed to make friends here who basically rule the world.
They're incredibly talented, interesting, dynamic, creative, ambitious, successful, and focused. They're "dreamers" and "doers" and great "go-getters." Not quitters, complainers and chronic bed-wetters. And whenever I get together with anyone of them, I mostly just stand in awe and feel very grateful to know such brilliant people with such diverse interests.
I met yoga instructors of all different specialties; artists, entrepreneurs, and musicians galore; a painter and graphic designer that has also just become a yoga teacher; a photographer and videographer who now works for an emmy-winning film studio....so on and so forth... and most recently a coffee shop worker who is pursuing acting and fire-breathing (yes, fire-breathing) in his spare time; I deeply admire nearly every friend I've made in regard to their ambitions. So what could be bad about that?
All of these people needed no pretext or excuses to become my friend. And, being who I am, I can't get enough of them! I love to hear them talk about their passions. I want to meet every kind of person there is in Portland and find out why they love what they love and what motivates them and gives them that healthy obsession that keeps them awake sometimes. In Living With a Wild God, Barbara Ehrenreich's captivating autobiography, she quotes a fellow scientist as saying, "You're not really doing science if you don't wake up screaming in the middle of the night."
And I think what they're saying is that people who truly pursue their passions without reservation are sooner or later going to feel utterly terrified. But the fire-breather told me tonight that he's never met a fear he didn't want to conquer. I could have rolled my eyes, made judgments, and been defensive, but instead I only felt a deep sense of compassion and respect. The essence of life is in overcoming our fears. (A/N: I wrote this entry while I was working at Powell's, at my current job I have a magnet, which I bought at that same Powell's job I had to quit. It says "Everything you want is on the other side of fear." And I look at it every day.)
Now, just to be clear, I have met amazing people my entire life in all different places, so friends from back home shouldn't feel left out. It's only in Portland that I met so many so very quickly, in part because of an intense motivation to make new connections, after moving away from home. And naturally, as a highly self-critical person, meeting so many outstanding people--and having them generally enjoy my company and want to be around me--has led to a lot of reflection, skepticism, distrust, and the inevitable question:
If I'm not nearly as successful or talented as these people, then why do they want to be my friend?
And of course, the first answer is that Real Friendship is not based on superficial definitions of Success or Failure. It's based on your Personality and Sense of Character. And maybe what music you listen to (which is anything but superficial when you think about it).
The second answer, and least forgiving one, is that I am the Groupie to their Rock Star Status. They are all somehow just fulfilling a need for attention and admiration with my starry-eyed affection, but ultimately don't genuinely reciprocate. They are Beautiful Multicolored Planets and I am so much Orbiting Space-Junk. Harsh. I know, but everyone is their own worst bully. And it's hard not to be a little intimidated by so much success, meeting so many people who genuinely and consistently recognize their own talents and validate themselves. It really shines a light on everything you want that you don't have, everything you could be if you only tried harder, woke up earlier, slept better, ate healthier, acted cooler, and were generally an entirely different person altogether.
But the third answer is a little voice inside of me that keeps softly saying,
"I wouldn't be making friends like this if they did not see something inside of me that I'm not giving credence to."
That voice is a hell of a lot quieter than the ones telling me that I'm a satellite.. And yet it's the little voice that is calm, rational, and consistent. And doesn't need to barrage me to get my attention. At the end of the day it's the only one I really hear, since the rest are being incredible jerks. "You are capable of just as much as any one of these people, and you are just as surprising, powerful, and beautiful." That's the voice that rings most true. It's the law of attraction at work. And really, the bullies inside and out have been sprinkling the same sand in my shorts my whole life, through successes and failures and everything in between. In fact, now that I think about it, the difference between the successes and the failures has only been whether or not I was listening to these poop shovelers at all. Because when you silence the bullies and listen to the quiet one, there is no such thing as a failure. There is only deeper awareness.
And that is exactly and only what I have achieved thus far in my life. Ok slight exaggeration. I have a bachelor's degree and quite a bit of graduate work, I've spoken at a conference, taught at a university, presented poetry to hundreds of people, taken road trips, ran a 5k, seen the world and a thousand things in it, studied five different languages, tried my hand at quite a few different jobs, been hired by the #1 best independent bookshop in the world, blogged for a famous feminist center, had my story appear in a spiritual publication, and, most recently, I've ridden a bicycle naked for seven miles through a major city. I've connected and shared with, all over the planet, a vastly diverse amount of people with regard to age, status, origin, class, race, religion, orientation, ability, appearance, personality, health, occupation, criminal record, political leanings, and so on and so forth. I've had more experiences than you can shake a stick at.
But meanwhile, I've seen all of the kids from my graduating class who were in the same honors and AP classes, many of whom scored equally as well on the ACT and with equally as high GPA's (which I know only because we were competitive enough to compare scores), and at the time those numbers were my primary source of self esteem. Many of whom did not get a fancy full ride scholarship to a prestigious university, but got into school anyway and busted their humps to finish.
Just about all of those who I consider my closest peers from high school have graduated from college into promising, powerful, and lucrative careers in fascinating fields of work. They are professionals, with a specific set of skills that they contribute directly to society in practical and fulfilling ways.
They've got things like salaries and health benefits and 401k's. People give them responsibilities, which they take on with pride. They work one job, for more than a year at a time, and have a reasonable and predictable schedule that maybe even includes paid time off. (A/N: I have this stuff now. I didn't when I wrote this. A small but emphatic boo ya. Spoke it into existence.) Maybe they even are in charge of other people, or at the very least in charge of themselves. My point is they've accomplished something of an occupational nature, picked A THING to be and are carrying it as far as they can. They have focus and many of them have had it for many years now. They probably ate, slept, and breathed that THING for no short amount of time before even reaping the benefits of it. And then they tried and probably failed a few times when it came time to be that THING out in the world, but that probably didn't scare them all that much, because look where they are now.
And me, I just look around and see EVERY THING, I want to TALK TO EVERY THING, do EVERY THING, learn EVERY THING, and BE EVERY THING and sometimes A NEW THING every year, every month, recently every waking SECOND.
Sure it's great to be incredibly curious. The world is my oyster. But where does that lead me? In circles, and down crooked paths, with wide eyes and out-reaching hands, running like a small diapered child into the forest trying to catch butterflies and bugs, and all manner of animal with his bare hands, tripping and crying, only because he had to stop running for a second, getting back up and happily, naively, carelessly, chasing again, never realizing that he's never gonna catch anything--that if anything he will get poison ivy, or get hurt, or get eaten alive. And when he runs out of breath he's in the middle of the forest, all the animals have wandered away, and he's finally figuring out that he doesn't know how to catch them, which is very unsettling because that's why he started running in the first place. It's dark, and he's broke and his pants don't fit because he's emotionally eating pancakes, he's retreated into social isolation, he's stopped going to church, he's sleeping all the time, his paychecks put him at poverty level, he's thanking his stars for universal healthcare, the rent is coming due and.... errr... the metaphor broke down somewhere, but I am the small diapered child. Only I'm 26 going on 30...and you get the picture.
This type of person, as you'll see below, is commonly known as a "scanner" or "dabbler" or "generalist," where as my peers who have careers are called "divers."
I told my new fire-breathing friend this and he said some things I never stop appreciating but have heard many times before in a myriad of ways:
It is beautiful to be endlessly curious, you are a modern day DaVinci, a Renaissance Woman, a Jack of all Trades (leaving off Master of None), I'm sure you've had a rich and full life, how lucky to be able to understand and explore so many different things. You say you don't have a passion but it sounds to me like you're passionate about being alive and everything life creates.
But this life style and learning style (which has been referred to as being a "scanner" a "dabbler" or a "generalist") has led me at times to emotional exhaustion and paralyzed indecision. As this article from Psychologies points out:
[Aside: I found this article by googling "jobs for people who want to do everything" and the query pulled up this entry just a few results down, which just goes to show how endlessly amusing Google search results (and predictions) can really be. And just for further illustration of the concepts, Kanye and Steve are both Divers and not Scanners.] "One of the biggest problems for scanners is that they can get lost in a never-ending sea of flash-in-the-pan interests. Overwhelmed by choice, option paralysis can set in and the scanner...never lives up to their potential. Or else they use perpetual indecision as a form of procrastination. Another downside is that... the generalist may find it hard to dedicate themselves fully to one thing out of a misplaced fear that they might miss out on a better prospect tomorrow.
As psychotherapist Andrea Perry points out, ‘If someone spends their time flitting from thing to thing, there’s a danger that they may end up feeling as if they’ve eaten canapés rather than a proper meal. There’s that feeling of vague dissatisfaction. Picking at things can be lovely, but nothing beats the sensation of being authentically “full-up” — and knowing how to attain that state is valuable.’"
I would google canapes but I assume it's some sort of appetizer or small bite of something and I've gotten to the point of techonology fatigue that I no longer care to google every last thing which I do not yet know, a tiresome modern compulsion that has only further exacerbated the very problem I'm discussing and left me reading about pineapples on Wikipedia when I should be setting goals and building a future... as.... a.... pineapple farmer? YES! No... Pineapples... exotic islands... cruise ships! I could work on a cruise ship! Surfing! I'll take up professional surfing. But it's kind of late, so I'll just watch a cartoon and go to bed. But I'll definitely make a plan in the morning. Definitely....
zzzZZZzz...
And so it goes. There's a test at the bottom of this article to find out if you're a "diver" or a "scanner." I don't need to take the test to know that I'm a "scanner," and specifically, at this point in time, I am the dissatisfied kind with unfulfilled potential. This article is ALL about people just like me, which makes it very comforting in a way. And the author really tries to defend the underdog and argue in our favor. Oprah Winfrey is crazy successful and she's a scanner!!! Well there you go. They'll eventually give me my own television show. So I think I'm just gonna wait it out. ;)
I'm kidding. And don't think that I'm all doom and gloom about this because I'm not. And besides my friend Corey has been sagely preaching on Facebook to everyone in his statuses the last two months to "Harness the Darkeness," which I think is his mantra. And he's said it so many times it got lodged in my brain and when things really did start to feel pretty dark, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to lay in it forever. And like I said, the quiet, calm voice inside of me knows I'm not running in circles, only toward deeper awareness and ultimately toward fulfillment (even if it takes me a bit longer). Like they say, the first step is admitting you have a problem.
And after two months of trying to figure out , I've realized I am dying to take on responsibilities and a career path, and I'm ready to do some diving.
I also have spent the last two weeks occasionally bursting into deep hard passionate sobs of acceptance that I literally worked my entire life toward a full ride scholarship to a prestigious university (I set that goal at age 14 and if you look at my old Xanga, started around that time you will see that I CLAIMED a full tuition scholarship from DePaul or Loyola for myself four years prior to earning it), my entire childhood and young adulthood I aspired to receive a full tuition scholarship from a prestigious and reach opportunities my parents never got to have, and truly believed my future would be laid out for me if I just worked toward that one thing, and I was told over and over throughout this time period how smart I was and how great I would be and how I was destined for success and prosperity and ALL the BEST THINGS I could want.
And instead I'm dirt poor five years out of college, no car, no house, no career, working two part-time entry level positions. And I'm on the bus listening to Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" and reading "Song of Myself" by Whitman to try to keep a rational perspective on things, remind myself to live in the present and about unconditional self-love and self-acceptance, and that I am probably not the first person to look back a couple of years and feel like life didn't go as planned....
But nobody really told me anything about what the real world is like or for example what specifically to do or how to go about it. When I was thirteen years old I took a career aptitude test and could not WAIT to receive the results. Because at that time I was really curious what I could do for a career and had a very strong hope that this test would give me one straight solid answer about something being a good fit for me, "the right thing" right then and there at thirteen. And I got my test results back and ripped open the envelope only to read what all my test scores already predicted "You could do just about anything you want to!" While plenty of my friends got concrete specific answers about moving toward math, or science, or some trade or specific vocation, or group of jobs like counsel, lawyer, teacher or architect, engineer, programmer, I got a big fat shrug with a smile and a thumbs up. And even at thirteen years old I remember thinking, well thanks for your help assholes. And then just went on studying everything equally and getting good grades in all my classes and really just enjoying all of it quite well, hoping that I would sort it out later and pick a favorite subject. But when I got to college I was faced with the same paralyzing number of choices and the same crippling indecision. Ah the freedom of the well-rounded intelligent person. With great power comes great responsibility. I could have been blissfully happy in any number of very straight forward and semi-to-extremely lucrative and secure professions, particularly those in the sciences, or the non-profit or social sectors. And although quite a few people warned me against the perils of being an English major, I wasn't really listening, caught up in the romance of my first year of college and the big city of Chicago and the prospect of reading Shakespeare and Milton and writing poetry for four years. Which I must admit was a dreamy, dewy, cotton soft cloud full of intellectual pleasure on which I did so blissfully recline and float away my college days, something that at the time felt oh so good and right and fun... And I wasn't phoning it in either. I worked hard and I was good at it. But, as Bob says above, I only used to get juiced in it...
So I've spent the last two weeks crying sobs of acceptance that I really did earn and fight for the most amazing opportunity I could have possibly gotten, and then kinda sorta (from a certain cynical perspective I've taken on recently) totally blew it.
And the very opportunity that was supposed to keep me ahead of the curve in life, that really I'm telling you was at the center of my being from junior high all the way to the the day I graduated college, as far as giving me purpose and substance and security, and surely the opportunity did open my mind to the vast knowledge and beauty of the world regardless, as they say a liberal arts education will do, I am afraid completely wasted, only to end up feeling as far behind in things as any of my coworkers over the years, most of which have not gone to college, or have just started college, or have no plans of doing so. But they also say that if you open your mind wide enough your brain will fall out. And that's kind of what happened to me. I mean, it's a lot more complicated than that, and if you want the whole story you'll have to read my memoir, copyright circa 2080. But in the end, truth be told, I don't want be an English teacher, and I didn't end up wanting to be an ESL teacher either, or a lifelong academic all things I thought I would want to be when I was in school. I also don't want to be a speech therapist. And I procrastinated on figuring it out so long, and spent so much time waitressing and going home and watching television, eventually picking up an intense exercise regime (also as a distraction) and occasionally reading a book or two but not really doing a whole lot else, that I'm fairly confident my brain, like my muscles, turned to total mush in Iowa. I whipped my body back in to shape before I left, but I brought my mushy brain to Portland. And for a while I was afraid it wouldn't recover from the entropy (I mean atrophy... and entropy). And even if it does recover... I don't have a plan. Even if the atrophy is just totally simmering I made up and I'm actually as smart as ever, what am I going to do with it? What will I do "for a living?" How am I gonna make my way in this cold, cruel world? The truth is I still don't know.
But the good news is that my shame and self-criticism surrounding that big ugly question mark is starting to pass. It started this morning when I had a really good heartfelt talk about it on the phone with my good ol' unconditionally loving momma (who I can't wait to visit next week), and actually felt like I processed some of those feelings instead of gulping them down in front of cartoons with along with a big pile of comfort food.
And then I went to work and I had a really awesome conversation with an elderly man who honestly seemed kind of lonely and desperate for connection. And I feel proud to have connected with him and do what I do best in customer service, which is make someone feel acknowledged and appreciated out in public.
We talked about how this modern era is kind of set up to make people feel that way, lonely and desperate for connection. And we also talked about how the development of technology has made it so that a lot of the job opportunities available to someone with my education revolve around online businesses and phone apps and software that integrates thingamabobs with whojammies. (A/N: At my new job a month after writing this, I had to learn computer thingamabobs and whojammies and I have to say it wasn't as scary or boring as I thought it would be, but...)
And frankly I don't care all that much about thingamabobs or whojammies.
I barely know how to use this blogger, though I do type at a fabulous 71 wpm. ;-D And I could quickly learn those things if I had the desire. This guy was on the same page as me. So I am a diapered small child inside of a seventy year old man trying to make it in a tech-savvy, vertically blessed, well-dressed, Rockstar-drinking young adult's world.
But I've made a couple of new friends by working at the airport the last few months and tonight after a great shift, we all went out for pizza and the fire-breather and his friend who can kick through a wall (? claim unverified) basically told me I was awesome. And I decided that they are right and that they are awesome too. And I felt happy and excited again because I did another new thing today. I went out to a pizza place I've never been to before with two new friends that I made by being friendly. The fire-breather also told a wonderful story about how he tries to get spectators of his performance to hold fire. He says it's just a little parlour trick involving lighting oil and water in the palm of your hand and it's not dangerous and anyone can do it. But nobody ever volunteers to because they're afraid: except little children, who are curious and excited about just about everything new they see. And he says that after the little child does it the adults get embarrassed that they were afraid and jealous of the kid and after a moment of processing that, they all line up to try it too.
So there is a beauty and innocent bravery to being a wide-eyed child with out-reaching hands.
When I got home I started reflecting on all the incredible experiences I've had in Portland, more than I can even recall, which is why I really do need to journal more or take more pictures or something for when I'm old, and I reflected on all the amazing things I've done since college, in between serving shifts, and in spite of poverty level income and no substantial property of my own. And then I got online to check my email and my Facebook and I saw my friend Shanita posted this article, about today and being overwhelmed by all that is not "right" in your life and then honoring what you've accomplished.
My jaw kind of fell open. I don't normally give a lot of credence to horoscopy predictamaroles. But, correct me if I'm wrong, that is a strangely specific prediction of exactly what I did today without ever looking at a horoscope or frankly even knowing about the full moon or remembering it was the first of the month. But I did have a breakthrough that started with me simply not being able to sustain my two month long lifestyle built around sleep, pancakes, cartoons, and anxiety and dread concerning both my present and my future--cartoons, social isolation, extra sleep, and pancakes not really putting out the fire but more like covering myself in gasoline and then just sitting down nihilistically next to the flames. And it has led to a renewed sense of conviction, something that I lost a little after school ended, but have actually had for the vast majority of my life.
And in fact, I am selling myself short if I say I haven't committed to anything in the past three financially destitute years. I committed myself to a long term relationship, longer than any job I have ever held and almost as long as I committed myself to earning my bachelor's degree. I committed myself to a diet and exercise regimen just last year that caused me to drop an astounding thirty pounds in four months (a huge amount of weight for a tiny-framed girl like me). I committed myself to career exploration, even if I'm not finished with it. I committed myself to Portland. To finding friends and establishing myself in a huge unfamiliar city. And I committed myself to two new blogs, a spiritual community, volunteer work, and a publishing project (which I will finish, no matter how long it takes). (A/N: I'm not finished but I'm further along.) I'm clearly committed to this blog enough that it keeps me awake at night as I started writing this around the time I got home from pizza and now the sun is shining and the birds are chirping. But after all my child like meandering, I'm ready for greater and more adult commitments (for a guide to this: see Adulting by the talented Kelly Williams Brown of blogging fame). And it will take time to finish mourning the choices I've made and the time I feel may, in some way, have been wasted. I feel like Iserved my first bowl of pasta at Olive Garden in Iowa at 23,blinked, and I was serving a burger in Portland at 26 and crying into a customer's milkshake over lost time (if you read this blog enough you'll see that tears are a big part of my growing pains, one that I used to be embarrassed of but have had neither the energy nor the patience to be self-conscious about this time around). Even if there is a magnet at Powell's that says "A wasted youth is a lot of fun!" It's not everything it's cracked up to be... But at least there's this reminder that people who have a career right out of college do not always have perfect lives either. That we are all really in the same pursuit of self-actualization and we all get there at different rates in different ways. And where one person may seem be further along than me in one way, I could easily find ways in which I am further along.
But I'm really truly (just about) ready to find, commit to, and develop a skill set and contribute it to the world in a fulfilling way. (A/N: And now I'm doing it!) And I found three great tips for narrowing it down. And this little bit of advice. So that's a start... And if I'm not sure it's exactly the "right" path for me, I'm ready to go down it anyway, pursue it, and risk having to start over, instead of never starting to begin with. To be a "diver" and be "authentically 'full-up'."
To see what it's like to hunt something down like a warrior and not chase after it like a helpless child.
Instead of fanning the fire that has started in my head these past few months, I'm going to blow it out of my mouth and hold it in my hands.
Because I too have never met a fear I didn't want to conquer.
