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(A tip of the hat to Tom Lehrer for the title.) This is yet another comment I posted elsewhere first.
The other day I had a minor bout of what-have-I-done-with-my-life. I get those from time to time. I figured we all do, especially around birthday time! I asked my beloved whether he ever got those. He said no.
No? Hmm.
Turns out when he was little he had goals. Go to MIT, start a high tech company. He did them. Check. Done!
(Now he has a similar feeling of "where do I go from here?" So from this moment on, we're in the same boat, in a way.)
Once he said that I realized something. When I was a child I didn't have goals. I had dreams. Most of those dreams I discarded for very sane reasons, many of them having to do with being a girl. (No Blue Angels for me.) But goals and dreams are different. Dreams are safe because you don't have to do anything; you don't have to risk failure. I never got around to making goals, because enough of my dreams simply weren't workable. I learned early that it was a bad idea to risk. (There's the difference between Rob's situation and mine. He knows he can achieve big goals. I "know" I can't.)
Now I have a bunch of discarded broken dreams, no goals achieved, and no one to blame for it butMom myself. (Sure, Mom broke a few of my dreams, but I can't blame her for being right. And it wasn't her job to come up with goals.) Veddy intedesting!
I still have dreams. I haven't fully let go of "be an astronaut", but of course that one's got to go. I'm 38 in three days and I have multiple chronic pain conditions. It's a non-starter. But there are other dreams I could turn into goals...
...if I had the courage. It'll take courage. It was painful enough when all the dreams broke; how much more will it hurt when I try for a goal?
But if I don't find that courage, all I'll have in another 37 years is discarded dreams and no one to blame for it but me. Right? RIGHT!
The other day I had a minor bout of what-have-I-done-with-my-life. I get those from time to time. I figured we all do, especially around birthday time! I asked my beloved whether he ever got those. He said no.
No? Hmm.
Turns out when he was little he had goals. Go to MIT, start a high tech company. He did them. Check. Done!
(Now he has a similar feeling of "where do I go from here?" So from this moment on, we're in the same boat, in a way.)
Once he said that I realized something. When I was a child I didn't have goals. I had dreams. Most of those dreams I discarded for very sane reasons, many of them having to do with being a girl. (No Blue Angels for me.) But goals and dreams are different. Dreams are safe because you don't have to do anything; you don't have to risk failure. I never got around to making goals, because enough of my dreams simply weren't workable. I learned early that it was a bad idea to risk. (There's the difference between Rob's situation and mine. He knows he can achieve big goals. I "know" I can't.)
Now I have a bunch of discarded broken dreams, no goals achieved, and no one to blame for it but
I still have dreams. I haven't fully let go of "be an astronaut", but of course that one's got to go. I'm 38 in three days and I have multiple chronic pain conditions. It's a non-starter. But there are other dreams I could turn into goals...
...if I had the courage. It'll take courage. It was painful enough when all the dreams broke; how much more will it hurt when I try for a goal?
But if I don't find that courage, all I'll have in another 37 years is discarded dreams and no one to blame for it but me. Right? RIGHT!
no subject
Live is short, and you never know how short exactly.
And you'll probably only get one go at this life thiong, so no rehersals.
I don't say: just jump. That would be silly.
But I do say: don't let lack of courage stop you from jumping.
You'll be at least as sorry for the things you haven't done than for the things that went wrong. At least. And probably more.
no subject
Amen. Looking back, that's what I'm most sorry for: the things I didn't do. It makes loads of sense that that's what I'll be most sorry for when I'm eighty and looking back from there.