A Change Would Do You Good
When I was in high school, my classmates and even my teacher laughed at me when I said I wanted to be an arts therapist. I tried not to take it personally; how could they understand? It was the perfect career for me; it allowed me to work with children, celebrate arts and most importantly, help people. I had a great plan for my life, all laid out in front of me like a roadmap. College: double majoring in Communication Disorders and Theatre, grad school for my master's and doctorate degrees, career, marriage, suburban house with a white picket fence, babies... Simple enough, right?
I am a planner; I plan things. I like to know what is going to happen and when it is going to happen, or even before it happens. I like to be prepared, even for what most likely won't happen but could possibly happen in the rarest of situations (As a result I'm also an over-packer when it comes to traveling). I guess "What if?" has always been my worst enemy.
The thing is, plans change. Sometimes you make the change yourself, sometimes you need the help of others. Sometimes the change happens slowly over time, sometimes the change is thrown at you without so much as a warning. Sometimes the change is in the back of your mind but you refuse to accept it because it's too scary.
Fears get in my way most of the time; worry I'm not good enough, worry that I'm missing out on something, worry that my friends are growing tired of me, worry I will make a mistake and fail miserably. We all have insecurities; the trick is not letting the monsters in the closet keep you from what you really want. Those monsters are pretty scary though.
What I have learned by being a "fraidy-cat" my whole life: Change is scary but no change is not always a good thing. What we know, what we know to be absolute and ever reliable, is safe. That safety is reassuring but can hold us back from so much.
It's a scary prospect deciding what you want to do for the rest of your life. I mean, I'm only twenty years old...How am I supposed to know what I want to do for the next fifty years? I used to worry about what would happen once I changed my mind (and my major); What if I can't find a job? What if it's not what I expected? What if I'm miserable after all that? What frightens me most now is that I don't know what I want to do. It worries me; it causes me physical stress.
I did some soul-searching today and I discovered that I still have no clue what I want to do. I don't know if I want to move and teach English abroad in Italy, or travel and teach English in underdeveloped nations like Tanzania. Or teach English to inner-city children. Or teach children impacted by homelessness through a program like School on Wheels. And so as Sunday draws to a close and another week is about to begin, I am coming to accept that maybe I don't know what I want..and maybe that's okay for now.
I need to stop thinking about the clock constantly ticking in my ear, reminding me that the years are whizzing by and I need to make a decision. I need to ignore all the professors who look at me skeptically when I tell them I don't know what I want to do. I need to stop caring about what everyone else thinks and just take a breath. My biggest problem, I discovered tonight, is that I've never been good at just being a kid and like with everything else in my life, I'm running out of time.
I am a planner; I plan things. I like to know what is going to happen and when it is going to happen, or even before it happens. I like to be prepared, even for what most likely won't happen but could possibly happen in the rarest of situations (As a result I'm also an over-packer when it comes to traveling). I guess "What if?" has always been my worst enemy.
The thing is, plans change. Sometimes you make the change yourself, sometimes you need the help of others. Sometimes the change happens slowly over time, sometimes the change is thrown at you without so much as a warning. Sometimes the change is in the back of your mind but you refuse to accept it because it's too scary.
Fears get in my way most of the time; worry I'm not good enough, worry that I'm missing out on something, worry that my friends are growing tired of me, worry I will make a mistake and fail miserably. We all have insecurities; the trick is not letting the monsters in the closet keep you from what you really want. Those monsters are pretty scary though.
What I have learned by being a "fraidy-cat" my whole life: Change is scary but no change is not always a good thing. What we know, what we know to be absolute and ever reliable, is safe. That safety is reassuring but can hold us back from so much.
It's a scary prospect deciding what you want to do for the rest of your life. I mean, I'm only twenty years old...How am I supposed to know what I want to do for the next fifty years? I used to worry about what would happen once I changed my mind (and my major); What if I can't find a job? What if it's not what I expected? What if I'm miserable after all that? What frightens me most now is that I don't know what I want to do. It worries me; it causes me physical stress.
I did some soul-searching today and I discovered that I still have no clue what I want to do. I don't know if I want to move and teach English abroad in Italy, or travel and teach English in underdeveloped nations like Tanzania. Or teach English to inner-city children. Or teach children impacted by homelessness through a program like School on Wheels. And so as Sunday draws to a close and another week is about to begin, I am coming to accept that maybe I don't know what I want..and maybe that's okay for now.
I need to stop thinking about the clock constantly ticking in my ear, reminding me that the years are whizzing by and I need to make a decision. I need to ignore all the professors who look at me skeptically when I tell them I don't know what I want to do. I need to stop caring about what everyone else thinks and just take a breath. My biggest problem, I discovered tonight, is that I've never been good at just being a kid and like with everything else in my life, I'm running out of time.
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