Am I Really Who I Want ToBe?
I’ve been thinking about this question for a while now. It’s difficult to envision what my life would be like if I weren’t who I wanted to be. But do I actually do it?
You see, I claim to be a poet. I’ve written a lot of poems since 2017. But I only publish a couple of them on social media because of my fear that people might not see or read them. Or, even worse, they might not grasp the significance of those words. Or perhaps they would notice that, despite the lovely intention, my grammar is incorrect.
I also aspired to be an artist. I invested in art supplies with the idea that I would be a fantastic artist and that my work might serve as an inspiration to others. I tried to make a couple, but when I gaze upon the canvas, dissatisfaction floods my thoughts and emotions.
I gave music a chance. I had never been taught how to play the piano or read music, but by the age of eleven, I was already familiar with both, nothing more than the outcome of my musical exploration and curiosity. Despite my best efforts, I was never successful in learning other songs. I would either be unable to maintain the timing or my left hand would not be able to synchronize with my right.
Even before and after college, psychology continued to inspire me. I made a commitment to myself that I would continue to work for it. I have a lot of obligations in my life, though, so I can’t do it right away.
I have a long list of things I want in life — things I want to be, do and possess. But it appears like I’m far from there at the moment. My life is rife with inconsistencies, which is ironic because I’m the kind of person who despises them.
But then I remember saying this to myself:
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You will be there.”
There are numerous routes you can take in order to get to your destination, as well as many roads with unexpected turns. My dreams are the same way. The only thing that matters is to remember what lights my heart and soul on fire.