By the time I hit the ripe old age of 16, my ambitions had taken on a life of their own. Every dream career I concocted was infinitely possible and grandly desirable, especially when the career field was fraught with stiff competition and low success rates among those who chose to pursue it.
Queen of the Long Shots was I.
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| "I'm gonna live forever..." |
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Defying
Gravity |
And what was to stop me from dreaming big? I had the larger-than-life 80's hairdo going on, why not have the dreams to go with it?
As I got older, however, the lack of specificity in all those dreams became increasingly apparent. My 16 year-young, chock-full-o'-hairspray self had somehow failed to address the specifics of how and even why I wanted to live out those dreams. (There must be some study out there linking heavy hairspray use to poor long-term planning, but I haven't come across it yet.)
Once in a while I ponder that journey from 16 to my, uh, age now, and consider how those youthful, nebulous dreams didn't really fade, but rather
evolved into a higher level of sophistication. For example, I recall that in my early days money and fame were always an integral part of my dreams of success. Of course, I never outwardly admitted that belief because I considered myself a good, conscientious person, and a good, conscientious person shouldn't care about things like that, right? But I'll admit today that those less-than-noble ambitions were infinitely present, always lurking in the back of my mind like gauntlets I'd thrown down to hold myself accountable.
Now that I'm able to look back and reflect- and hindsight is 20/20, of course- it's easy for me to see how money and fame were the most accessible ambitions to shoot for, especially since I didn't have any specific goals up my sleeve at the time.
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Ah, Mr. Robin Leach.
I hope that vest didn't cost you
a fortune. |
Of course, the constant reminders in society extolling the importance of celebrity and wealth made them easy targets. 'Twas the 80's, and everyone (that I was paying attention to, anyway) seemed to value fortune-building over character-building.
But ultimately I recognized that my career ambitions came down to my own choosing. I could listen to how society-at-large defined success. And I could choose to set standards so high that I could never live up to those ever-elusive dreams.
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Madonna: before
her blonde ambition
took over |
On the other hand, I could choose to make my dreams clearer and more thoughtful and personal. I could choose to dig deeper and uncover what truly motivated me, beyond material rewards and far-reaching recognition. I could broaden my concept of success while also breaking down goals into easier-to-attain steps.
Once I was able to look beyond these familiar trappings I discovered how much richer dreams can be when they come from an authentic place, born out everything I believe in and need to do. Like expressing my talent for the love of it, making a positive impact in people's lives, and striving for solid financial health versus enormous wealth.
My notion of fame thankfully has evolved as well, maturing from an insatiable appetite for widespread recognition to a yearning for broader social impact. I find that I'm now driven by a need to mobilize my expertise and knowledge to tackle career conventions that are in desperate need of repair. But I'm also equally invigorated when I've helped one person create a successful new game plan for their life or enabled them to use their talents in a brand new way. These individual partnerships have rewarded me in ways I'd never imagined.
But then again, are we ever able to accurately imagine what will drive us in the future? Maybe not. Or maybe, just maybe, if we can come to terms with who we are, what we believe in, and what we're good at, we might catch a glimpse at what our future holds.
