Written December 19th flying back to New York:
This is where I was a year ago. I know what happens next, because I have been here before. The difference is only that this time, I am only uneasy, not scared.
When history repeats itself, there is a common source. “The teacher comes when the student is ready to learn.” While, I may have always known the truth, this is the first time I am letting it in. This is the first time, I can entertain the truth, unbury it from the confines of my being. Despite this, I still don’t feel ready. My nerves heightened. My personality’s edge sharpened. An easy route is tempting, but the recurrence of events, cements that this truth, this conflict, is me. Not an egotistical boss or an inequitable situation.
I mention that my world may be changing to those close few. I refrain from saying, “It’s just like last year. “ It’s impossible to not feel as though I failed. I check my integrity. I check the truth. I scan my ethic. I dissect my focus. I review my hours.
I am good at what I do, but I still miss the mark. JR. The name, eh. A silly third party borker who dramatizes my faults, an act beyond highlighting. While his statements are an exaggeration, I suppose exaggerations are disproportionate truths. Even a lie, must have a conception. That seedling further validated by my ongoing review of my procrastination. . . .
And so it is. I know, this isn’t what I am supposed to be doing, this isn’t my passion, my career destination. At 25, err 26 in 27 hours, I have gotten so many things right, learned so much. I have adapted.
I review my last year’s resolutions, the majority of them, now true. Balance. Travel. My salary. My goals then are now the reality in which I live. If we all have a journey, a life that is aligned with who we are, I consistently get much closer. I know I am aware of the secret behind this elusive thing called legacy or passion.
Every event in my life has been a lesson that has lead me closer to such. Always a gift. Redirecting my path were it not the right one. Jim. Robbie. P. My disease. And the many lessons that have taught my empathy. I smile now for life provided me with my own equivalents for everything I couldn’t relate to:
My belief that my mother was weak, naïve.
My intolerance for drugs., alcohol.
My narrow world of ambition.
Life upset that of which I held true.
I now am intimate with loyalty, addiction, and distraction.
This flight is the first time which I have internally vocalized that there is a disparity between my career and my identity. I hate the typed words. Erase? Breathe. It is December 19th and I know something is going to change.