George Carlin was interviewed the other day, and I was struck by the fact he had a complete plan for his ambitions by the time he was thirteen. Not only did he know he wanted to be a professional entertainer, but he knew that he should start with radio first. Why? Because there he could work out his fears of performing in front of people because there wouldn’t be a live audience before him. Then, he’d do comedy. Stand-up. Then, he’d go on to be a film actor. Despite the fact a lengthy film career wasn’t to be, George hit all his goals in the order he planned to hit them. (And I think his role in Kevin Smith’s film counts, don’t you?)
Ask nearly anyone noted for doing what they do, and they say, “I have always known I’d be a painter” or “I used to make up little songs and sing them to kids in the neighborhood.” They have a clear sense of their inner vision, the guiding platform of their life.
Not me.
The problem lies partially in my ability to be “good enough” at nearly everything I’ve ever attempted. I can play several musical instruments well enough to noodle out a tune. I can draw and paint well enough to hear this comment all the time, “You should do this professionally.” (Guess what? No money in it unless you’re one of the few.) When I decided to lose weight, it wasn’t all that difficult in the end. When I took up running, I entered and completed all the races I’ve tried to run.
But nothing just blares out at me as the most obvious thing I should do.
So instead, I mostly just muddle around and try to consider what would be a good solid future for me. Part of this might be fear. Boy, fear is a huge anchor on any dreams to fly, isn’t it? There’s a parable or something where birds are all let free from cages and they just walk around still. I’m like that in some ways.
It’s all the safety net issues: wife, daughter, house, health care. But then, all these people that found greatness found some way to do so with a family, so I’m left to believe that it’s just my own fears. That I’m not measuring up to the challenge in some way. Mind you, part of the issue is that I’m in a well-paid job for a company that’s somehow found me worthwhile for nearly eight years. There’s little impetus to do anything more than what I’m doing, considering it pays the bills, eh?
Right now, I’m ensconced in my personal fantasy life. I’m working on improving my physical strength and endurance. I’m reading books with titles like: CHANGING MINDS, The Art and Science of Changing Our Own and Other People’s Minds. I’m reading books about all kinds of skills that might prove useful to me in some future iteration.
But the vision eludes me. The ultimate target isn’t clear. I am a well-crafted arrow, but that’s not enough.
My philosophy says to me: “Just be here now, accept what comes, and don’t try to steer the road.” But will I be thrilled with that mindset thirty years from now?
Vision. I’m thinking. I’m trying to draw together a view of myself that encompasses my personal accomplishments, my professional interests, my need for creative expression, and that keeps my economical demons at bay.
Phew. All that thinkin’ and now I’m going to go get a raisin bagel and some peanut butter.
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