I’ve come to the conclusion after a week on the beach that I want to do better. I want to be better.
I’m a little lazy. I have a problem with accountability. And I’m not sure how to begin.
Besides that, I really do want to do better. I really do want to be better.
What do I mean?
Well, I just don’t believe that I’m living up to my potential. When I think back over the past few years and I recall all the things that I wanted to do; things I got really excited about yet never accomplished it makes me a little sad. A few years ago I was determined to learn how to play the piano. My guy bought me an electric keyboard and I was all hype, I practiced everyday and I was really beginning to understand how to read music … and then I got bored. The keyboard is sitting in my bedroom collecting dust. Another example was when I decided that since writer’s block was preventing me from finishing my second novel, I was going to be a freelance writer. I did tons of research and submitted tons of articles to various publications and I was really positive in the beginning. I figured that if I got started now than I would have a career established by the time the Princess graduated high school. I’d be set, right? Wrong. All the rejection letters were too much for me and I quit submitting.
In some respects I feel like a big fat failure. I know I’ve accomplished some things in my life. But for the most part I’m average. I’m living a life of mediocrity and I feel some kind of way about that. At (almost) 45, I feel some kind of way about that. I don’t want to enter old age feeling this way, man. I really don’t . I don’t want to work until I’m dead … unless I’m doing something that I love. My counselor asked me what I thought my next career would be. Honestly, I don’t want another career. I’ve been part of the American workforce for 30 friggin years and I’m tired. Enough already. I want to walk away from the Corporate world and write, write, write. That’s it. That’s all I want to do.
Obviously, I cannot just walk away because no one is throwing money at me to write, write, write. And don’t get me wrong, I do not hate my current job. Not really. I work for a great company and I like what I do and I’m good at what I do. I’m grateful to have a job which allows me to pay for my children's education and take great vacations. I’m blessed but I’m still longing …
I’ve got to make some changes and I’ve got to have a plan. I didn’t have a plan for the first half of my life. I didn’t plan on being married and divorced twice. I didn’t plan on moving to VA. I didn’t plan to raise two kids alone. None of it was planned so I’ve had to make do. I can’t make do anymore. I absolutely refuse to make do. Not for the second half. I’m older and I’m a lot smarter.
The week on the beach was wonderfully therapeutic. Being with the people that I love most did wonders for me. I have a good life. Sometimes, I allow myself to get bogged down in the day-to-day. I used to struggle to just get through each day. There’s a much bigger picture I just have to expand my point of view.
I may be rambling now and that’s okay. The bottom line is that I have work to do. I have to work to make the second half count.