What Do You Want to Do With Your Life?

I had a little "come to Jesus," moment this morning, as my friend Trisha likes to say.  I was thinking about all the "opportunities" that had come my way lately and whether these items really are opportunities or me just flailing blindly around in the pool of life, searching for something to cling to.  I suspect they are a bit of both.

Look at what I've blogged about for the last few days.  Substitute teaching...running a marathon. Hello--where did those come from? There are also some items I haven't blogged about.

In pursuit of the possible side career as a speaker, I'm signing up in August for a Dale Carnegie course. (Trisha warned me it's a cult but I'm aware of that and--frankly--think I would make an excellent cult member. I excel at following directions). A member of my networking group called me yesterday because she thought I was a member of the Greensboro Merchants Association and wanted me to be on her team. I'm not a member but she got me to thinking maybe I should be--more networking means more potential writing and speaking assignments coming my way.  I'm also working my way through Advanced manuals in Toastmasters, trying to earn an advanced speakers designation and just a host of other little things.

My point is, I think I'm grabbing at all these things, hoping one of them will "stick," and I'll figure out what I really want to do to with my life.

I do think writing is my niche. I've no plans to leave that. But almost all of my income comes from magazine writing and while I enjoy it and am good at it, I don't recall ever thinking to myself, "Hey, my life's dream is to be a famous magazine writer."

The problem is I don't know what my life's dream is at this point. Is it teaching? Writing for children? Writing non-fiction books? Humor books? One of the plus/minuses of my personality is I get very excited about whatever is set in front of me. Very good for getting me through projects, but I'm also easily distracted and thrown off track from the end goal--whatever that may be.

I think part of the problem is if I face up to the fact that my "dream" is to, let's say, write books for a living, that may mean I need to refocus my life and give up a lot of what I've been working hard for these past couple of years. Namely, building a reputation as a freelance writer. What if I give up my income, my ego-pleasing "Look--my name is in a magazine!" moments and my columns to stay home and write said book and nothing happens?  Aaaauuugh!  I am not a process person. I am a "let's see the end result" person.

Just talk for now. But we'll see where it leads. Meanwhile, let's throw it open to the crowd. Are you following your life's dream? Do you know what it is? Care to share your process? We're all ears... 

Running A Half Marathon

Apparently there is some form of drug growing in, near, or around my house that is embedding me with a sense  of "I can do anything!" bravado that will more than likely end in my downfall.  First substitute teaching and now this.

My neighbor M.  is training to run a half marathon--13 miles--in December in South Carolina. Her husband is a marathon runner and is one of those people who when he says he is going for a "quick run," means he's going to pound out 10-15 miles.  Riiiight.

But M., who is not by any means in tip-top shape, is training for this half-marathon. She's focusing on her time. Right now, she's running 61 minutes w/out stopping and her goal is to run a little longer each time.

It has always been a dream of mine to complete a marathon.  I've never actually done anything about it, but it's still a dream. Blair doesn't get this. "Why would you want to exhaust and torture yourself for some race?" he asks.

"So you can say that you did it," I answer.  "For the satisfaction of knowing that you accomplished your goal. for bragging rights that you've done something few other people can say they have done. You do it for the magnificence of it all!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

 About this time I notice he's hiding from me upstairs.

I of course have to map out a plan. If I start off at 3 miles (which is what I can run now before requiring medical attention) and up my running amount by 1/2 mile every 8-10 days, I can be ready by December.  I think I'd need to run at least every other day. Yikes. That's a whole lot of exercise I'm not sure I can commit to.

The other thing I'd need to do is to start running outside. I love the air-conditioned world of my treadmill, plus I have the ability to lose the hills if I so desire. But treadmill running is soooo much easier than real-world running.

My neighbor may have the right idea with focusing on time instead of miles, at least to start with.  I'm going to try running with her one or two nights this week and see how I do. If my heart bursts, we'll know the half-marathon is out. If I hang with her...hmmmm.  Maybe a half-marathon is in my future.

I definitely need to scout out around the house and destroy those drugs.

A Moment to Reflect

I don't blog much on the war in Iraq. Namely because I'm poorly informed, unsure what I think about a lot of it, and I like to keep this blog more lighthearted. However, my yoga instructor shared something with me the other week that has stuck in my mind. So much, that I've decided to share it here.

 

Her brother is career military--I want to say Army or Marines. He's on his third tour of duty in Iraq. She said he's been lucky that he hasn't had to shoot anyone, but he has been shot at several times.

 

The other week two of the men in this man's unit--friends--were in some big truck or Army vehicle and a grenade went off and they were quite literally blown up. The vehicle was still in tact though and my friend's brother had the job of cleaning up the truck.

 

Having to perform a task like that is beyond my comprehension. Can you imagine what that must be like? The smell? The look of it? Knowing what it is that you're wiping off the equipment? I told Blair the other night that I guess I could do it if I had to, but I don't know that I could do it and keep sane.  

 

I'm sure this is one of the "tamer" stories of what's going on in Iraq, but I haven't been able to shake the mental imagery from my mind. I don't have any family or friends or know anyone over in Iraq and the war is a bit distant for me.  It's good sometimes to be reminded of the sacrifices being made by others. 

Will Work For Food

How do you handle it when you see homeless people on the corner, holding cardboard signs and staring with eyes devoid of hope at approaching traffic? I never know what to feel or what to do.

On the one hand, I'm hesitant to give them money, mainly because I think my money is better spent giving to an organization that helps people in these situations. There's also the logic of "What is my $10 going to change for them? Tomorrow they'll be right back out here, having to beg for money again." So by giving I've just delayed the inevitable.

And yet...I can't help but feel that if I were in their shoes, I would be most grateful if someone would delay the inevitable for me.  My $10 doesn't solve anything long-term but it does stay away the hunger or alcohol withdrawal pains for a short time.

Usually what I do is to offer a smile and lower my head in embarrassment. I don't know why I feel embarrassed each time, but I do. I'm in my car with a full belly and clothes and money jingling in my change drawer. I have hope and love in my life. I offer a small prayer of love and protection for them and drive away. And--if we're being brutally honest--usually forget about them within 8 minutes time.

The only reason for this post is I saw a homeless person the other day and felt the guilt flood through me and thought, "This might make for an interesting blog discussion." I saw another person the next day and just yesterday passed a couple on the side of the road. They had a cute black and white mutt with them on a leash and a red bandana tied around his neck. That got to me. Homeless and trying to take care of an animal. If they'd been on my side of the street, I would have given them money.

I read a story years ago by some wealthy man--I can't remember who off the top of my head. But he was extremely well-known and wealthy and he came out of a speaking engagement one day and a young woman rushed up to him, crying. "My little girl is dying and an operation may save her but I don't have insurance and I don't know what to do. Please, can you help me?"

The man asked about the surgery and the woman gave him the details and the cost was something like $5,000-$10,000 dollars. The man gave her the money on the spot.

Later, he was telling his colleagues about the women. Their radar went up and they asked what she looked like. Turns out a woman matching the description of this woman had been running money scams in the area. His staff did some investigating and came back to him.

"She conned you," they said.

"You mean there's no little girl dying because she needs an operation?" asked the man.

"Nope. Sorry, but it looks like you were had."

The wealthy man breathed a sigh of relief and beamed at the group. "There's no little girl dying," he repeated. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

It's all in how you look at things, isn't it?