Validation

A few weeks ago, I posted a quote about being good at more than one thing (To read about it, click here). Basically, what the quote says is that, just because you excel at one thing, doesn't mean you can't excel at other things as well.

By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I had made a name for my self as that-singer-chick. I was once stopped from crossing the street by some classmates who had heard me sing. They refused to let me cross the street until I sang "Stairway to Heaven" for them. Incidents like this, combined with accolades like being the only freshman and then sophomore from my school to go to All State Choir, and as a junior, being the fourth person ever to go to All State Jazz Choir from my town pretty much made me feel that singing was my destiny. This idea was further affirmed by people coming up to me and telling me that singing was my destiny.

No pressure.

More than that, being considered so good at one thing, people were always surprised to find that I could do other things, and sometimes reluctant to think of me in any other light. This was not always the case, but occurred often enough to make an impression. But after two years of being steered into other people's ideas of what my musical life should look like, I began to lose my taste for the lifestyle.

When I left college, I felt like a failure. I had been put on this earth to sing, and I was turning my back on that. I tried a few paths out (teaching, English, bartending) but nothing really fit. My failures here seemed to confirm for me that I was cursed so long as I abandoned music.

When my dad died, things kind of got put in perspective. My dad made a career of doing what was expected. He, too, had many talents. His academic and career path has more branches than mine. He went to school for teaching...and he taught Spanish for a few years. Then he decided that wasn't what he wanted to do, so he went back to school, this time to pursue a law degree. Half way through, he realized that he really enjoyed his science classes, so he went on to med school instead of law school. He became a psychiatrist and was very well respected in his field. He was also a devoted husband and father.

What is left out of this picture? He was a great poet. And he painted beautifully. He had a lovely singing voice and played several instruments. Everyone told him he was an academic, but I think he was secretly an artist. Maybe suppressing this inner calling contributed to him ending his life. I can't say for sure, but I know that he would have resonated with the idea that you can be good at more than one thing.

So why is this long-winded post titled "Validation?" Because that's what I got this week. Since I moved back home and started back in school, I've chosen a totally different career path. I'm studying mass communications, and I really enjoy it. More than that, though, I've found that I'm pretty good at it!

This past week, one of my professors (who I have only spoken to a couple of times since being in her class last semester) sent me an email saying that she had an internship that would be perfect for me. She said I was the first person she thought of. I was touched and excited.

But it gets better...

I emailed the head of my department to ask if he would support my decision to apply for the internship, and he echoed the sentiment that I would be a perfect fit. Really? TWO of my professors think this highly of me?

No. Three of them do.

Today, while meeting with professor number one, a third professor popped his head in the door and offered his two cents. He said, and I quote, that I am, "awesome-sauce." If I ever write a book, that review is going on the jacket.

Told ya, validation. Three professors think that I am perfect for this job and are excited to see me succeeding. To me, this is proof that I can be good at more than one thing. That is a powerful realization.

The internship in question may not be a perfect fit, but it's a step. And more than that, having the support of my department proves that, even if this isn't the right thing for me, I don't have to be a singer to be successful. This gives me renewed hope that I can and will find my passion! Thanks, Mass Comm. Department for the much needed ego boost!

Our deepest fear.

I have a confession to make. I'm afraid. I am afraid that I may have found something to be passionate about. Admitting this exciting possibility is scary for me because it feels like the kiss of death. My past experiences have left me with the feeling that admitting my passion jinxes the possibility of success. This is stupid, I know. At best (or worst) this points to self-fulfilling prophesy. I say to myself, "I wanna do this!" and then the self-sabotage sets in. As soon as I commit some part of my mind or efforts to the pursuit of a goal, I start to imagine all the ways it can, and will, go wrong. I start to complain about how hard it will be, how many people are out there who are more talented, more beautiful, better qualified or connected. Blah blah blah. Excuses.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." - Marianne Williamson

Is this true? Is self-sabotage just our minds railing against the fear that we are "brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?" (To read Williamson's full poem, click here). If so, then this is good news. When that mean little inner voice starts to talk you down from the cliff, then you know it's time to take the plunge.

I had an assignment in my Careers class to write the bio of my career life ten years in the future. The paper needed to include our "current" job, the things we "did" to get there, and (Dun Dun DUNNNN) our passion. Sooooooo not fair. I keep telling my teacher that I don't have a passion! Why was she making me do this!? For exactly that reason.

Hearing the word "passion" sends my body into a full-on anxiety attack. My heart starts racing, my palms sweat, my breath becomes ragged and shallow. I look like a cornered animal. Why? Maybe because I fear that I am "powerful beyond measure."

I did the assignment. It took me a little over two hours to write out my first draft, but I was surprised at how easily the ideas flowed. I started off safe, exploring my real past. I am a firm believer in the idea that our past has an influence on our future. Once I got into the realm of fiction though, the words still came fairly easily. Yes, the ideas were a little loose and poorly researched, but there was definitely an idea there. I created a passion (crazy, I know) and I really feel some resonation with the idea. I used my Dream Board to guide me a little bit, and I found some dormant interests rising to the surface.

In a nutshell, this is what I said: My passion? "Supporting the arts and my own creativity." My future career? Public Relations...person(?) for an art museum in London.

OK, so this is still a bit vague, but it's getting a lot closer to finding my path. I had a thought shortly after learning about study abroad that I might try and intern with one of the art museums in London at some point. Why? Because they're in London mainly. There's more to it than that, though. I like working with nonprofits, and even though I have abandoned musical performance as a career, I still love to participate in the arts. I also have some experience with education and a life-long love of museums. Seems like a good fit. Why public relations? Well, it fits with my major, and it balances behind-the-scenes work with the role of a public figure. I like that too.

The passion I have picked is also vague. At first I thought this was copping out, but the more I think about it, the more powerful this choice seems. By keeping my "passion" open, I'm allowing myself to interpret it in many ways. I can support the arts and my own creativity by working for a museum, or writing children's books, or opening a community theatre, or marrying some rich guy and working with charities...the point is, this passion is flexible, and I need that. I need to be able to reinvent and start over without feeling like doing so kills the person I was in order to become the person I want to be.

Thanks, Careers class, for forcing me out of my comfort zone and making me realize my power.

Devil's Advocate

Let it never be said that I am not open to other points of view. Ok...I'll admit I'm pretty stubborn and I don't take contradictory advice very well all the time, but part of this soul-searching mission is about expanding myself and being open to new ideas. So here goes...

While I was out roaming the blogosphere, I came across this post by Penelope Trunk. In her blog post, Penelope states loud and clear, "Forget the soul search; just do something." I felt a little stung by the directness of this post, as if Ms. Trunk was aiming it specifically at me.

But I didn't get scared and run away, I read the post and kept my mind open to what she had to say on the matter. She had some excellent points and some good advice.

One thing that I found particularly important was the idea that soul-searching takes too long. Discovering ones' self is a life-long and ever-changing process, so waiting for the end result of that search before pursuing a career is pointless. You'd die before you ever attempted to do something with your life. I have to say, she's got a point there.

So how do I balance this advice with my own mission? Compromise. It is important to know that I will never have a definitive answer to the question, "Who are you?" (see my earlier post here), but that doesn't mean I should stop asking the question. Tuning into yourself every once in a while is important. It is easy to lose sight of what you want in this world when you allow yourself to get swept up in action all the time. That being said, thought without action is equally unsuccessful.

Penelope Trunk's blog post urges readers to get out there and just try a few things. A "bad" career decision is still a useful tool in self-discovery. By having experiences we don't enjoy, we learn more about our likes and dislikes. These experiences, then, inevitably lead us towards more successful experiences in the future (so long as we take care to actually learn from our mistakes, and don't simply repeat them).

Another point that Trunk addresses that I found encouraging was the statement that each person has many selfs. At any given time, there are multiple things that motivate us, and multiple careers that could bring fulfillment. She sights the statistic that most people nowadays change careers every eighteen months. As your tastes change, or a different motivation rises to the surface, go with it.

One last gem that I want to share is this. Trunk says that you need to get your toes wet. Try careers out, take the leap, and if you don't like the result, "reframe your landing pad as just a stepping stone." When I left music school, I felt like my life was over. I had failed, my passion was dead, going on was futile. But if I allow myself to reframe that experience as just another stepping stone in my life, then I can take away the valuable lessons I learned (like how I didn't want the insecurity of a musicians life - see here for more on that).

Even though her argument is directly at odds with my philosophy, Trunk's arguments for action seem not to contradict, but to compliment my continued search. (Am I still being stubborn?)

The question that must never be asked.

First of all, kudos to anyone who caught the Dr. Who reference in the title. (If you don't know what Dr. Who is, go find out, it is a great show!)

But seriously...what am I talking about? Today we had a guest speaker in my careers class. Everything was hunky-dory at first. She told us about her job and why she loves it, then she brought out this oversized deck of cards.

"This is called a Big Picture Deck." she explained as she scattered the cards across an empty table. Instead of the traditional four suits, numbers and faces, each card had an individual photographic image. "I would like each of you to choose the card that represents your passion and then tell me about your passion."

Dun dun dun!!!! She hadn't actually asked the question, but it was implied. What is your passion? This was so not fair. I wanted to raise my hand and say, "But, but, but...I don't know! I need more time!" This was, unfortunately, not an option. So I improvised.

Ever since getting the happy news that I would be joining the summer Study Abroad program I have had travel on the brain. I don't know if travel is my passion, but it is certainly something I want more of in my life (check out My Dream Board to see more of this). So I began searching through the deck for a picture of luggage.

I didn't find luggage, what I found instead was this:

A compass.

We took our images and divided into small groups to share our pictures and our passions. One of the girls in my group had a very specific passion that she shared in detail. I was impressed and intimidated. Even so, when our guest speaker asked if anyone would like to share their passion with the whole group, I volunteered.

I told the group that I didn't know what my passion was. I told the group that I was currently suffering a bad case of travel-fever, so I had sought an image associated with travel. Then...in the middle of my impromptu presentation, I was struck by a sudden thought. So I added that it seemed significant that the image of travel I had lit upon was a compass.

Compasses do symbolize travel, but they symbolize much more than that. They symbolize direction. I shared with the group that I was currently on a journey of self-discovery and that it was fortuitous that this compass would so succinctly encompass my quest for direction.

There is poem, a song really, that JRR Tolkien wrote that I love. If you have seen The Lord of the Rings, then this will be familiar to you, and if you haven't seen LotR, shame on you!

"The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow if I can. Pursuing it with weary feet, until it meets some larger way. Where many paths and errands meet, and whither then I cannot say."

I have always found this to be extremely poignant and inspiring. I love the idea of "the road goes ever on and on." It seems to suggest that no matter what life throws at you, life goes on, and that is good. The part that has always touched me the most, though, is the last line, "and whither then I cannot say." The future is always a mystery and that can be scary, but this poem makes it seem exciting.

In fact, this is not the first time I have considered the compass or these words an important symbol for me. I have a few tattoos and I plan on getting a few more. Each tattoo marks some specific event or self-realization that I want to memorialize. The design I am most eager to implement next is that very line, "and whither then I cannot say," wrapped around the edges of a compass.

I am beginning to feel empowered by my search. Self-discovery may not be my passion, but it certainly seems to be my path at the moment. And I must pursue it with weary feet until it leads me to the next step!

Seeking Inspiration

I am a bookworm. At an early age I began turning to books for solace and advice. As I have gotten older, this strategy has continued to prove effective. While I mainly read fiction, I occasionally browse the self-improvement section. The picture below is the cover of a book I am reading as part of a careers class I'm taking. (If you're interested in reading it, you can find it on Amazon or Barnes & Noble's websites).

"Smart Moves" is full of personal stories of people who have found careers they love. Mostly my reaction to the book has been, to quote Austin Powers, "Whooptie-do, Basil." In my search for meaning, I catch myself slipping into the roll of the angry cynic from time to time. I read their success stories and can't help feeling a little bitter about their confidence and direction. 

However, when I am able to push away my negative thoughts and objectively evaluate the choices these people have made, I admit that it can be helpful. One idea that resonated with me while I read tonight was this, "Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you can't be good at something else."

I struggle with the idea of "talent" a lot in my career soul-searching. I'm a good singer, I know this because people of all walks of life have told me so. I have been told by complete strangers that it would be a sin to neglect my talent and pursue anything other than music. Glazing over the religious implications here (I don't want to debate theology...tackling my career journey is quite enough without embarking on a spiritual journey too), this statement upsets me.

It is hard to justify leaving music performance behind when everyone I know tells me that I have what it takes to make it in music. "If you just put some effort in, you could be great!" But the thing is, I don't want to put some effort in. Yes, I'm a good singer, but I don't want to be a musician. That just doesn't feel like my passion. At times it does, those shining moments when I'm actually on stage and basking in the glow the spotlight. But as soon as I step out of the lime-light I remember how much I dislike the business of being a musician. And I know that isn't my passion.

So it is encouraging to read those words. Yes, I'm a talented vocalist, but that doesn't mean I can't have other talents. Being a good singer does not limit me to being a musician. I can pursue any avenue I like and who knows what else I may find I am good at!?

I titled this entry "Seeking Inspiration" because in absence of passion, I am putting my energy into finding passion. To do so, I think it is important to be open to inspiration. A book assigned for class or the words of a stranger can provide tips to finding the path I'm looking for. I encourage you to do the same! Be receptive to the lessons around you and actively seek inspiration!

Admitting defeat.

As any twelve-step program will tell you, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. If you have ever had a problem, you may be familiar with the phrase, "Easier said than done."

Admitting you don't know what to do with your life after three years of college is hard to do. I have invested tens of thousands of dollars that I don't have in a life I am no longer pursuing. Two years into music school, I realized that music school made me HATE music. One of the scariest things I have ever done was to admit this to my parents. What made this particularly hard was waiting for the inevitable, "I told you so," from my very practical mom.

Musical performance is a risky career direction. The economy is bad right now, so people have less money to spend on frivolous things like going to see some chick sing old jazz songs. Part of me knew that, the same part of me that knew I could never become a tiger, no matter how often I practiced my jungle stalking skills. But, part of me refused to believe this, the same part of me that wished to be a tiger in the first place.

This part of me can only be described as hope. I used to believe that hope and faith were the same thing. I treated them the same way in my thoughts. To hope for something was to have faith that it would one day be true. The world has made a cynic of me, though, and the distinction between the two has become clear and cloudy at the same time. After two years of spending all of my time with musicians I began to realize that hope was as silly a thing as believing that wishing on the evening star would turn me into a large jungle cat.

Music school showed me how hard it was to be a musician. I considered my professors to be successful musicians, but the more time I spent with them, the more I realized that success as a musician wasn't what I had envisioned. Each of these musicians shared a commonality that scared me. They were teachers. Even though they gigged regularly, had excellent technique and style, they had to supplement their income with teaching. I didn't want to be a teacher. I had specifically gone into musical performance, NOT musical education. My fate seemed to be sealed, though, being a musician meant making some sacrifices. Sacrifices I wasn't willing to make.

So, sixty thousand dollars later, I had lost my passion for music. I stopped hanging out with friends. I started sleeping though classes. I even made myself so sick, I had to practically be carried to dinner one night. Sixty thousand dollars later, I admitted to my parents, and to myself, that I had a problem. I didn't want to go to music school anymore. I didn't want this life.

Admitting this wasn't easy, and the life I have led since hasn't been easy either. You see, admitting I didn't want to go to music school also meant that I was admitting I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Whatever I had felt inside though out the years, I had always maintained a sense of purpose and direction to the world. Now that facade was broken and I was forced to begin the search for a new path. I have started down many roads, only to run back screaming the way I had come. Today marks a fresh attempt at tackling my problem. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. Maybe this blog is the second footfall.