In a room full of answers

The library is an amazing place where nearly every question can be answered. The smell of paperback novels, memoirs, historical accounts, and fictitious tales of mystical adventures fill the air. The echoes of faint whispers barely fade out behind the lofty carol of the bells playing down the hall. There is hardly a sign of life, yet in some fashion, every life ever lived is represented with an ISBN. The library is a sanctuary where there are no membership fees, no charge to get in; the only requirement is a thirst for knowledge and a hunger for information. The wifi is free, the seats are comfortable, the heat is on, and the possibilities are endless. It is in the confines of this building that I find myself today looking for clarity.

My mind is hungry, my spirit unsettled, and my direction remains uncertain. There is so much in this world that I desire, but at the core of it all I find myself bumping into the metaphorical wall of questions. What is it that I truly desire in life? Is my quest to discover my calling in life ever going to turn up answers? Is it possible to work a job that I have no desire for while pursuing a life I truly want? These are the questions I find myself asking today (and most days). Why I came to a library to find these answers, I am not quite sure.

I wish I could just turn my thoughts off sometimes. The overclocked PC of a brain I have leads me to a repetitive cycle of frustration fueled by passion. I want to be great at whatever I do, but whatever I do must have a great purpose. The allure of money is not something that gets my heart racing and spurs me to action. Helping someone get through a tough time is something I get excited about. I would rather live a simple life and change lives than make a million dollars. This is where the frustration sets in: the treasures I seek come in the form of riches that have no monetary value. One can not simply pay the bills by making karma deposits and that sucks! Money has never brought me true happiness (not that I have ever had an abundance of it to know). There is great irony in the fact that I recently made the most commission I have ever made at my job, yet feel so disconnected from my purpose.

When I get totally honest with myself, I don’t care about selling you a product. I don’t care if the potential to be a millionaire exists. I find little concern with the tax brackets above me and the amount of commas on your check. I believe in living life with purpose and living on purpose. This is quite the conundrum I find myself in however. Life isn’t fair. Money is a necessity. Being a good person doesn’t pay the bills, and having good intentions doesn’t mean the road to finding the answers is any easier, yet here I am lost in a room full of answers.

When wanting more is acceptable

It is often said that wanting more is a fast lane to unhappiness. I am not sure that I am quoting that right, heck…I am not even sure if anyone of notoriety has even said something of the sort but I think it sounds logical. To want more is often a gluttonous behavior and is a lack of gratitude for what we currently have. I know the battlefield for the mind is where our lives are made and destroyed, and today I am waging war on the topic of “MORE”.

I just want to do something in this life to make a difference and there are just some days when I am sitting at my desk wondering why I feel like I am wasting my life. I do not see myself being a saint, but I just can’t help but scream internally when I feel like my work is so pointless. I just hate that I feel as if I could be making a difference in the world instead of making money for someone else. Unfortunately that is not how the world works, and I need this job. I need to make money to pay bills so I don’t have a slough of REAL problems to complain about and bring me unnecessary stress.

I just feel like I have reached a plateau in my professional life, and I am not sure where to go with it next. I do not want to succumb to the need for stimulation and jump ship just to have something new, but I also don’t want to become stagnant. In order to become great, it is imperative to be surrounded by great individuals. This is no slight at my work environment, but I do not feel as if anyone here is going to help me get to the next level of greatness that I want to achieve. I am so passionate about despising mediocrity that the mere thought of allowing that to become a part of my routine angers me, yet I feel as if it is accepted around here. I know what I am capable of and I know that I have a skill set that can be an asset to a company and to feel as if that skill set is undervalued is beyond frustrating.

I do not expect to change the world where I am sitting, but I also do not want my desire to believe I can to be extinguished by the environment I work in. Life has ups and downs, and I want to be very careful in my objective view of where I am at. I feel passionless at the moment, I feel unappreciated, underutilized, and lacking a support group that can help me reach the next level of success and more importantly, professional growth. While I know that feelings are fleeting, there is a fire within me that is sputtering out and I am the only one responsible for keeping it alive. I can’t blame my work, but it would certainly be nice if I felt like the lack of passion was noticed. The problem is, I can come in to work, do the bare minimum, and get paid. That’s complete bullshit! Mediocrity is a disease and I will not contract it.

I just want more and I don’t know what that looks like at the moment.

Overthinking

It is so commonplace to start the day chasing emotions, thoughts, and feelings, left over from the prior day. It is habitual to begin the day in the infinite loop of ruckus and digital pollution, giving no regard to the essence of stillness. I find it bewildering, that before I even take a moment to be present with my self, my consciousness has been hijacked by a story someone else has created. The world we live in is FAST…too fast at times. To slow down and invest in my self and conscious well being, is a deliberate act of discipline. While I find this discipline to be of great reward and joy, to regard it as easy is a fallacy.

I am a deep thinker, it drives me mad at times, and other times I feel as if I have a better grasp on my reality. At this current juncture in life I am finding that it is more a curse than a life hacking skill. There is a good chance that I missed my calling in life as an psychologist. To understand the mind and all it’s intricacies is something that I love to do for myself, so why not try and get paid for it? Besides the obvious student load debt I would have to incur, I think that diving into the minds of others might be a murky pond to wade through. However, when it comes to my own mind I often think that to accept is to understand, and that just could not be farther from the truth.

In the stream of consciousness we call life, I am finding myself in one of the valleys. It is hard to rest here, because if I am down, there must be something wrong. If something is wrong, I would be remiss to simply sit in it and allow it to go unnoticed. Yet, this is where the meditation and mindfulness correct me. To be mindful is to be present in the moment, focusing on the touch of the keyboard, the sound of my breath, or the scents wafting from the Columbian coffee roasting in the distance. There is nothing more and nothing less in this instance, including the “problems” I thought I was having. It is so counter to my standard MO because my overthinking brain tells me that this is just being naive and denying the existence of reality. So much energy can be wrapped up in figuring things out that I completely miss the peace that is the here and now.

I have no point here, and I guess that will just have to be OK. I will try not to over think that!

Thoughts at 30,000

Every time I fly, I am marveled at the fact that the MD88 I’m resting in at 30,000 feet above Texas started as an idea. Someone was crazy enough to think, I’m going to fly like a bird…and did it. The idea itself seems so ridiculous, and indeed it was. I just want to have an idea like that. Do we all have that potential? Is there an element of insanity buried within me waiting to come to life? I would like to think so…perhaps it remains in its metamorphosis. It seems as if all the ideas are taken, how could I possibly come up with something that is revolutionary or a necessity?

I would probably be lying if I said that the financial gain that would come with is not a motivator, but in fact I just want to make a difference. Lord knows I wouldn’t be thrilled about traveling to Houston by way of greyhound every time – and thanks to the Wright brothers I do not have to. They had an idea and sought to bring that to reality.

Here I find myself coming back to the theme of my blog: The art of Failure. I wasn’t there for the thousands of times the gliding contraption in its infancy spiraled earthbound without the slightest trace of flight. I can only imagine that the frustration overpowered the hope more times than anyone would care to admit. Failure, failure, failure. Just give up, quit, you suck, you’re such an idiot, you will never make a change, don’t bother, don’t even try, they are laughing at you. The whispers of defeat clamor to a roar before I can even become aware that each fall has been a vital step to the pinnacle. The insecurities, the fear, the disappointments, they are all so ugly yet they are so imperative to the end result.

I want to see the big picture, how the story plays out so badly, yet I’m only given the chapter I’m writing today. There is an evolution happening within me, the germination of something fantastic is underway. I choose to give the dream the water it needs to grow. I might not see what the final product is, but I’ll be damned if I allow the setbacks to do anything but remind me that I’m not the only one who has had to fail more times than succeed.

Success is certain.