Sometimes I envy those people who have their "thing".
I don't have a TV, but I can see my neighbors TV through the window in our front yard (I'm not a peeping tom, it's just right there. There are bars over it, but pretty much my front yard goes right into their living room). It's all in Chinese, but I'm more of a TV skimmer anyway. I don't like to get really wrapped into it because then I feel its claws sink into my skull and pull me in forcing me to watch commercial after commercial about the latest and greatest dental hygiene or fashion craze, and then I feel dirty all day. TV does that; it grabs you, holds you down and force feeds you sugar coated shit. Anyway, in
So I'm standing outside in our 'courtyard' smoking a cigarette when I catch the neighbor watching a volleyball competition between what looks like China versus the US, but maybe it's Italy; I don't know, I just saw a lot of blonds. Anyway, I'm watching it and I find myself admiring the Chinese girl who’s serving. She's not brilliant, I mean, it's not like I was amazed at her stunning volleyball technique (seeing as I have no knowledge of what defines good or bad volleyball technique), but rather I was admiring her focus. Look at that. I thought. There she is with her eyes and mind focused on nothing else but that damn ball with the only thing going through her mind being the various ways to hit the ball, how best to counteract the opposing teams reactions to the way she hits the ball, how best to jump and move her feet across the court while still keeping her eye on the ball. Maybe part of her is thinking about the crowd, maybe part of her is remembering what the coach said or how her boyfriend kissed her before the game or how much she wishes her father was watching, but mostly; she's looking at that ball.
Wow. How simple that sounds, how focused and clear and precise. I can do that. Jesus, that would be easy! I'm not saying I'm a great volleyballer (as I'm sure my name for her proves), but if all I cared about revolved around that ball, I'm sure I could make it work, and everything would be so simple.
I watched her and I felt relieved, I felt like sighing, like a big weight had been lifted from my shoulders, but then it cut to commercial in the middle of her serve (Chinese TV likes to keep you on your feet) and I remembered I have no ball to focus on. I admire those kids who grew up gymnasts, dancers, equestrians and musicians, living their lives in their respective boarding schools until they had effectively soaked in all there was to know about their skill. I respect them, I envy them and I even feel jealousy. That's it for them. They grew up with that being their life; it was all laid out for them.
You are a gymnast. You bend and contort, and spin and jump backwards and swing on bars and bend some more. You are a gymnast. Being a gymnast is rewarding and competitive. You make your family proud. You make yourself proud. You are a gymnast. When you grow up, you will do gymnast things and feel accomplished when you reach each and every marker in the gymnast life. You are a gymnast.
Living in Gymnastland means that there's not a lot of doubt going on, after all; you are a gymnast. That's all you do, that's what you are, who you are and will be. It's all so simple, and because it is your life and you do it every day, you excel and succeed and receive admiration and feel pride. Honestly you are not special. I'm not a dick, but anyone who spends their entire childhood and on studying a craft (ANY CRAFT) will become good at it, and if not, you really really should be doing something else. Anyone really can do anything if they put that much time into it...unless of course you're missing limbs, but I can still see that working for a gymnast. The point is; I don't envy these people because they have something I don't. I guess I envy them because I have something that they don't: Doubt.
I want to do many things, and currently I DO do many things. I keep trying to break it down and make it simple but anytime something new comes up, I think: Why not? I can do that. And my pile gets bigger. The trouble is, there is only so much time in any person’s life, and I fear that all my time spent on learning so many different things will mean that I'll never truly become great at any one of them. Maybe I won't even succeed. That sucks. I'd like to succeed. I've seen people do that, and it looks like good fun. Hell, I'd really like to succeed at the stuff I care about. Yeah, that'd be great.
But I doubt. Am I doing it the right way? Fuck. Who the hell can answer that? I'd like the god damned career planner to go knock on Albert Einstein’s door (not now of course) or
I know there's no right way, but I can’t' help but wonder if there's a wrong way, and if my way looks anything like the wrong way.
It'd be easier if I had just one thing, and I'm sure I could do that if I decided, but I can't...I can't bring myself to do that. Okay...I want to illustrate, I want to make annimations, I want write bad ass books that have my readers drooling and fiending for more, movies that play with the audiences emotions, fears and reactions like 100 watts of electricity on exposed nerves, acting that does the same but can walk and talk her way into your dreams, nightmares and random conversations, comic books that are protected in some kids closet so his brat sister doesn't get her pink nail polish all over the best parts (and this one's limited so she better not so much as breathe on it), blues songs that make you cry with a bottle of wine, rock songs that inspire you to go on a three day fuck-a-thon, and paintings that haunt you, and keep you wondering if maybe that's what I meant, and if not it's beautiful enough to sit their on your wall until you figure it out. There's more....there's so much more, but I might get banned from blogging if I keep this up. I want to make animations, movies, books, paintings, songs, speak languages for the sake of understanding what they're saying at me. I want all this and more, but what about in the end....what about when it's all wrapped up and the curtains closed and I have that pile of balls stacked up in my home, and I see that so many are still there, unfinished and maybe even left behind?
Maybe I should break it all down so that I can be sure to succeed in just one thing, to make it easier on myself. One thing to devote my life to and succeed brilliantly at....but I know I'm not going to. I know I'm not going to stop wanting to do it all and want to learn it all and maybe fuck up all over the place before I have anything whole and finished under my feet, but if I drop even one or say no to a good idea that might go somewhere someday with just a little more effort and a few more all nighters and red bull, then instead of a pile of maybes (maybe it'll work, maybe it'll stick, keep trying and learning and maybe it'll succeed), I'd instead have a pile of regret and might've beens.
That definitely sounds like the wrong way.
Sienna of Tao-SA
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