Thursday, July 12, 2012

43? I'm owning this one.

I heard on KCUR a few years ago the interpretation of a then-recent study. The conclusion? If you have a dream ... a real, life-altering dream ... and you haven't made preparations to chase it by the time you turn 44, your likelihood of achieving your dream drops to about zero.

My dream was to write this incredibly dense novel that's been banging around in my head since '98. The daunting historical and medical research and the fact that I keep getting tripped up by this one particular plot point have held me back. I take ownership of those two things of course because they, too, exist only in my head. Still I may yet find the time to see that through.

In the meantime, and quite unexpectedly, I started this little company 18 months ago. It's doing about as well as I expected it to be doing at this point. Maybe my goals are too modest, or maybe I've just absorbed enough advice and experience over the years that I know what I'm doing more than half of the time. This company was not a dream I had ever seriously considered ... until January of 2011. It quickly consumed me. Many disparate points in my life converged at almost the same moment. I've been very fortunate and carry with me the inspiration from those in my inner circles who dared to leap before me. I'll be ever grateful to them. This was absolutely the right thing to do.

So here I sit staring across the way at that magic number, 44. My vantage point, #43, is a number I've long considered for no logical reason to be the most boring year. You could argue there are others, but 43 signifies absolutely nothing. It's a placeholder year, a vignette wherein you start to believe that your body is actually growing, but in the wrong direction. I don't really feel "old" in any sort of way, except perhaps my knees.

What to do with you, then, Mr. 43? Will I apply the same level of discipline I showed for my "social issues, social problems" course in college? That's the one to which I showed up on the first day to pick up the syllabus, showed up on the last day, took the final and turned in a 15-page exploration of the pros and cons of euthanasia researched and written in all of about six hours. Note: While I was in an interesting place in my life at that time, that was the only course I treated with such disrespect. Having hyperventilated my way across campus to the last class, I highly recommend to my younger friends and relatives not ever doing this.

No. I will not take a pass. I will apply every bit of my mind and my passion over the next relatively arbitrary period of 365 days to make this baby of mine grow into something permanent. No more doubt. No more watching in mild fear as penny after penny rolls through the crack of the door to be picked up by a stranger on the other side. I may fail, but I'm damned sure going to keep trying. I'm going to keep looking forward, moving forward, and delivering great content for my clients. Someday soon, I believe, I'll actually be in a position to create a job or three. This is my passion now. This is my dream.

Now I'm going to shut up and make it happen.

What are you doing to pursue your dream?

1 comment:

Amy | Minimally Invasive said...

Whew! I made it just under the wire!