I think there is something wrong with my internal compass. Seriously.
It’s like every time I set out to do something, I end up in a totally different direction. Is it just me?
When I was twenty-one, for example, I bought a one-way ticket to England where I planned to live, work, and study Shakespearean theatre. I fancied myself the next Maggie Smith – not just because I adored her, but also because I’d been told I was like her in the few instances where I dabbled in community productions at home.
I had contacted family overseas, arranged accommodations, and set a path for myself, and then three weeks before I left a man entered my life. Unsolicited, on both our parts. He was actually interested in my older sister, who was a friend of his girlfriend, who was on her way out. My sister happened to be living with me at the time, and so our paths crossed inevitably, and I remember thinking how easily she attracted the good ones, until one night, out of the blue, he kissed me.
I think I stammered something about leaving soon, and not being available, and he said he’d wait.
So after three weeks in the UK, lonely and filled with uncertainty, I flew back and ended up married and living in a fishbowl (small town Ontario) and acting as recreational director, and head cook for our family of five.
Totally missed the mark there.
Then after years of roadblocks, at the age of forty-four, I went back to school, finally deciding to pursue another dream of mine: becoming a teacher. Made it through Teacher’s college, with distinction (and not just because I was the oldest one there), and landed my first job, which lead to another job, and so on for ten years, when I finally reached my ideal position, and then….I got sick. Not kind of sick, but drop dead exhausted, unable to get out of bed ill.
Am now the queen of lying in bed all day, have a limited audience (bless you my dear readers), and am doing the opposite of making difference in the lives of others.
Go figure. See? Internal compass problems.
Should have got that fixed before I tried following my passions.
One thought on “In the Game of Life, I’m a Fumbler”
when you set out to do something, youre doing what you at least think you want to do.
but when you follow your gut– my friend tells me, your gut doesnt lead you where you want to go– it tells you where the best place for you to go is. this isnt “best” as in “what we want” but “best” as in “whats best for us.” you set out for candy and ice cream– and why not? youve eaten all your vegetables. and all you end up with is more things youre not looking for.
taking less from that story, theres probably always some difference between what we want and whats best for us. you probably have a compass that is better for you (physically or spiritually) and not as much seeking “fun” as truth and learning.
that doesnt mean youre no fun, it means that deep down, your idea of what to do is based on whats really good for you. perhaps… but even if all that is true, its not all bad. youre a writer, yes? on some level youre always looking for a good story. and you say its not a mary sue tale? since youre a good writer, a mary sue life wouldnt even help. good thing you picked an occupation that suits your compass! …or either way.
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