I've been so busy setting new goals, kicking a lot of things I've
set aside for the past year back into gear, and focusing on the tasks set in
front of me that I've forgotten the main purpose that brought me to this point
in my life. It's hard to keep that particular goal in the forefront, because
it's not the goals the world considers important or crucial for success.
Success is measured by the collection of
things, by education and knowledge, by the achievement of status, by the
acceptable recognition of things like hard work and sacrifice. I know
...I've lived my life in pursuit of such success - the education, the career,
the status, the collection of things. I'm one of the hardest working
people I know, operate with a spirit of excellence in everything I do, and have
exceeded every goal I've ever set out to complete or accomplish. And the
world has loved me for it and showered me with all the praise it could afford.
Yet NONE of it satisfied me, my soul, or
my heart.
I sacrificed so much of my life in the
pursuit of these 'things'. I put "me" on hold as the last
priority as I pursued them. Where has it led me? I have an excellent
education, I gained lots of material possessions, I climbed the corporate
ladder, I raised my children, I built a great nest egg, I planned for my
future, towed the line, walked the straight and narrow, gave as much as I
gained, done my civic duty, became what was needed to make those around me
proud and happy ...for what, …in pursuit of what?
Here I am once again, receiving the
accolades for my hard work, my accomplishments, my successes, my drive, my
determination (my weight loss, marketing, editing, support, friendship, job)
...but what of me? What of the woman? Once again professional,
financial and successful opportunities present themselves - and I know (because
I've been there so many times before) they will require sacrifice to obtain and
maintain. But what no one asks, no one considers, no one understands
...is the true sacrifice it will require - me.
I'm 42. What has all my sacrifice in
the past gained me?
The last couple of years I took a chance,
and for a moment thought about me and dared to dream, to see, to hope, and to
desire the kind of woman I wanted to be - a woman happy, loved, wanted, and
desired, living a life in pursuit of her passions, simply being loved, being
the bright spot in someone's life by just being me, not for what I could
do. I fooled myself into believing I deserved to be that woman, there was
someone out there waiting to love me, and that love and passion were the
successes in life worth sacrificing for - and so I sacrificed. I walked
away from a 20-year (safe, passionless) marriage, from material possessions,
from financial security, from a hard fought career, from the American
dream, from nest eggs and a middle-class lifestyle. WHY? - For the chance to achieve the dream.
Here I am. I look around me and feel
I have failed ....ME. I'm once again offered the kind of success that
I've known all my life - a great career opportunity, financial security, the
means to gain back some of those material possessions I left behind, an
easement of my hardships. I know what sacrifice they will require.
But what of my dream? What of my passions? I reached for them - but
somehow they've slipped through my fingers. I touched them, tasted them, but for
only a brief moment. I help others reach for their dreams while my own
remain stagnant. I encourage others to take a chance on love, yet I go to
sleep alone every night. Will I only be loved for what I do, what I
accomplish - not simply for who I am? Will I never be someone's bright
spot - the love of their life?
What do I choose? I don't want to
just exist. I want to live my life to the fullest. I want to find success
in happiness, in love, in passion, in health, and in adventure. I don't
want the prison of worldly success, because I know this time ...it will require
my life; I will die. I must be the biggest fool in the world to want
these things, to believe I deserve them. It must be true, because I look around
me and I'm the ONLY person I know who has actually put their whole life on the
line to find them. All around me people talk of taking the risks, and make some
minor attempts and vain efforts, but they don't jump. They only take
chances from within their secure lives - but turn away when it comes time to
actually pay the sacrifice – the possibility of losing everything. They
love the idea of the jump, but still stand on the precipice, often turning away
from their dreams and settle for the practical. That hurts my heart to so
much to see it. I'm the only fool who jumped, and I landed flat on my face.
No one praises me for being a fool. My choices are: 1. Lay here
and die. 2. Get up and continue in my madness. 3. Turn back toward the
worldly mountain of success, knowing the climb will kill me, and that I'd never
have the courage to jump again. I've been told all my life that if I work hard
NOW, I can enjoy the fruits of my labors LATER. Later never comes.
I choose to remain a fool, being a fool,
and chasing foolish pursuits. Though I see no fruit, no evidence, and no proof
- I still believe in love. I still believe in passion. I still believe in
me as a writer, and that it's what I'm meant to do. Someday I will be loved,
wanted, and desired, be someone's bright spot, the love of someone's
life. Someday my written words will inspire, move, and motivate someone
else - and touch their soul, maybe even save a life – even if it’s just my own.
Yes, I know it makes no 'common' sense. I know it defies logic and is
contrary to the world's meaning of success. I know it only makes my life
more difficult, keeps me scared, broke, often hungry, and mostly alone.
I'm an artist, and I'm alive. I'm living for me. I so appreciate my
friends who have stood beside me. I'm proud of this fool - whether the
world agrees or not.
Till next time,
~T.L. Gray
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