I was rifling through an old journal (by old, I mean 2012 – I smash through roughly 4 a year), and I noticed something pressed between the pages of last-winter-ish.
I pulled it out.
(Don’t judge me! This is a safe space. …MOM.)
I wrote this about a year ago, when I was in the depths of my career-related soul-searching, getting beaten down by a tough job and coming to terms with the fact that I was skraight-up changing dreams. (No one talks about this! Someone show me the ThoughtCatalog article on this! …And only if it was Chelsea Fagan.) The work-life I thought I had wanted forever suddenly seemed like a gaping black hole of GOD NO, and I needed to build a new ~*~DrEaM LiFe~*~ from scratch.
So, I The-Secret’d — I envisioned exactly what I’d like to be doing, should all things go my way (aka, should all things go as Infant Jesus intended). I sticky-tacked it onto my wall and made myself read it every morning while putting on deodorant. I started to memorize the cadence, every edge and curve of every word, like a prayer. I believed in it hard, like mid-2000’s Oprah-hard, while somehow still rolling my eyes at myself like, well, probably you (don’t lie!).
Funny thing, that vision: I realized, looking at my life now, about 80% of that dream life has come true.
- I am a freelance writer & producer
- …And as a producer, I am doing a TON of freelance video editing (makin’ FCP my B-I-T–)
- I am working on more crazy YouTube situations as we speak (currently consulting my consultants. …My nieces. #butactually.)
- I am saving up resources so I can come back to work at Y Camp, my friggin’ happy place — and lining up teen programming gigs in the meantime, wherein I get paid to feel all my volunteer-fuzzy-feelings
- …howevs, I don’t have a dog. (All the better! I would ignore 100% of all of the above, and you, doesn’t matter who you are, if I had a dog.)
And I’d like to think my year-ago self would be damn pleased with the sick-nasty (that’s a good thing. …MOM.) surprises that I couldn’t have forecasted, such as:
- The summer to end all summers, double-stampsies-no-erasies
- The kind of job that made me cry joyous/proud/what-is-my-life/#blessed-tears, on the actual reg
- The time to truly Mommy-bond through Bangkok, Tokyo and Hawaii
- The opportunity to circumnavigate the goddamn globe – to lunge in Sydney/Singapore/Malaysia/India/London – as said producer for an educational non-profit.
- The chance to hang – really, really freaking hang – with my whole family on vacation, twice!
I’d like to chalk it all up to The Secret, or Fairy Godmothers, or maybe carbs — I think it was a combination of the three. But there is much to be said about the fact that at one point, I realized that, since I was starting from scratch, I had nothing to lose; I threw my hands up, gave Jesus his damn wheel already, and followed what made me feel good with the vision of an idealist-on-uppers and the faith of a child.
To be clear, I had a lot of help, and worked really hard for a long time. And all of this isn’t to say that success is getting everything you want. But I got some good stuff, man. And I wanted it all, in a different way than I’ve ever wanted anything. And mostly, I was fueled by stubborn, naive, anti-anti-Millennial faith.
And, clearly, that sh&# worked.
I just realized it.
It freaking worked.
(Can I just take a second to — thanks — OMG WTF BBQ SERIOUSLY I CAN’T BELIEVE IT WORKED HAHAHAAHAH HOW DID I WHAT IS MY WHO AUTHORIZED THIS AAAHAHAHAHAHA)
I searched for a long time for a sign, a signal to start, to quit, to e-mail him, to jump ship. I don’t remember if I ever found it (I would’ve gotten distracted from it anyway),
but in my teeniest tiniest dreams, I’m hoping this rambly post can serve as someone’s sign.
Like, right now.