I am a complete failure.
I’ve always had big dreams. Things pop in my head, and I start to obsess. I want to make them happen.
I wrote a screenplay with a friend. We thought it was good. We thought we were on our way. I told my girlfriend at the time that she would probably have to sign a prenup before we got married. (She didn’t. But the joke’s on her because she’s been stuck with me for the past 17yrs)
But Hollywood never called.
I wrote some songs. Tried playing the guitar and singing a little. No talent or skills to speak of, but I figured, what the heck. So, I surrounded myself with better musicians. We made it work but never hit it big. When the band broke up, we split up the 4 years worth of saved money from gigs. I got a check for $95.
A local tv station wanted me to make some videos. 60 second house call style. But I didn’t want to talk about regular medical stuff, and I was just too lazy to do the prep work. (Also, I have a face for radio).
I wrote a book once. I reread and rewrote it a dozen times. Something was missing. I never could figure out what. So I scrapped it.
In high school, I wasn’t valedictorian (my wife was).
In college, I was surrounded by all the biology majors. They were all pre-med. I knew I would never get into medical school. Too much competition.
In organic chemistry, I flunked the first test. So I buckled down and studied harder. I was one of 5 people to get an A on the next test. I still ended up with a C for the semester.
I went to a medical school interview. The guy looked at my application and said, “You think these grades are good enough?”
“Um……yeah”
He just shook his head and looked away.
I was done for.
The list goes on. But you get the point.
People like to tell me I’m lucky. That good things always seem to fall in my lap.
And maybe they’re right.
But what they don’t see is all the times I’ve screwed up. All the times I was picked last. All the times I got knocked flat. All the nights I stayed up studying. The 3 a.m. phone calls. The early mornings writing. All the cups of coffee.
There are things we control in this life, and there are things that control us.
Fate leads us like a dog on a cart.
There are the things that matter, and there are the things that turn to dust.
You can wish for things to be better, or you can wish for them to be just the way they are.
Every day that the sun rises is another day.
Good Luck and God Speed.
ADDENDUM/CLARIFICATION:
I need to make a brief clarification to the above. When I graduated, there were co-valedictorians: My wife Katherine and our friend Joli Crenshaw (Holzhauer). Both AMAZING people!
Sames. Wrote 2 children’s books and a novel. Recorded my own album. 3 bands. A stack of essays. I even had a blog.
There is something about the 39th year of existence and the painful reality that we may never break past the bubble of our own little life. That maybe all the people who told us we’d be famous one day got it wrong.
I’m hoping it’s the thing that happens before we become content with
what we have done. I grew three wonder-full people inside my body. I got a masters degree in education with a perfect GPA. I live in an achingly beautiful place that provides my family with food, housing, cultural diversity, community, and a five star education. I have also found, fought for, and won the love of my life.
And it’s strange that all the energy and passion I used to have to obsess over the next new endeavor is quieter. Maybe it’s because, as it turns out, this is not the life I settled on while I was reaching for the stars. Maybe it’s the light that settled me while I was distracted by fool’s gold. When will I really get this? When will I know? When will it be pressed into my marrow? Maybe when I’m 40.
Maybe it never will be pressed in. Maybe this is who we are. The wanderers……
or at least by 41
So, I keep thinking about this. And, I’m reminded of the ideas discussed here:
https://www.cwilsonmeloncelli.com/the-autotelic-personality-finding-happiness-in-flow/
I think maybe if we just remember that the joy is in the doing, because the doing is the compulsion of our innermost selves, then we can get a little closer to peace with it all. It’s not a failed experience if the experience was the end goal.