...what would you do? I feel like this is a fairly common question for people; it's used as a check-your-heart exercise to see if you're pursuing what really matters to you, and as the days of my grant rush towards their termination point, I find myself mulling it over, to somewhat surprising results.
If I could do anything in the world, what would I do? I would be an actress.
Depending on how long you've known me (or if you know me at all), you may know that when I was growing up, acting was my thing. At age 5, my mom tells me, I memorized the lead part's lines in a church musical--before the auditions. Not surprisingly, since I was 5, I lost that particular part to a 12-year-old, but it did little to dampen my desire. From age 5 till age 18, my happiest moments were on stage. Church musicals, a middle-school Shakespeare troupe, a variety of plays and musicals in high school; I couldn't get enough.
Then college hit, bringing with it the realization that, in the real world, you just don't have enough time to act when your hours are eaten up working to pay for tuition, room, and board, and throwing yourself entirely into your studies and preparing yourself for the real world. In the real world, there are very few successful actors; without the perfect cocktail of superhuman talent, beauty, and connections, most would-be actors spend the vast majority of their lives waiting tables. I knew that going into college, and I'm an optimist only up to the point where my in-bred pragmatism comes into play. So, my last performance was 5 years ago.
And, truth be told, I mourn for it. Whenever I go to a play, I ache to be, not just sitting in the audience, but up on the stage. So much of myself comes from my years in the theater: my ability to project my voice when needed (I've refused microphone usage this entire year), my silent footsteps (born from years of creeping around backstage as I wait for an entrance cue), my deep love of Shakespeare. I find myself thinking about the fact that I'm the right age now to play the ingenue roles; I find myself thinking that my lifelong frustration with looking younger than I am would come in handy now if I ever wanted to audition for the role of a teenager; I find myself daydreaming, in short, that I could do this. I long to return to theater.
But, again, pragmatism prevails. Ironically, though, it prevails on a sliding scale. What would I most like to do? Act. Do I think that would actually work out for me? No. What would I next most like to do? Write. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Possibly, but let's throw in a contingency plan just in case. What would I next most like to do? Edit. Do I think that would actually work out for me? Yes, I think it just might. If I work at it hard enough.
But here's the flaw in my logic: editing jobs are still incredibly hard to come by. Publishing, indeed, was cited by the New York Times (in this excellent article) as one of the stereotypical so-called "lottery industries"--fields with any number of applicants clamoring for a shot at a very few spots doing the job they love. Publishing was listed right alongside acting, with the only difference being that those who make it as actors get paid more. Well gee, that's encouraging.
But this is not a post informing you of my new intention to run off to LA or NYC to try to make it big as an actor. (Though, ironically, I may be headed to NYC to do the same thing as an editor.) Because, regardless of my love for it, the reasons that I shelved it as an ambition still hold. I have no delusions of grandeur there, much as I wish I did. I picked writing, and editing, because I think I have a comparatively better shot there of doing something I still love, and getting paid for it--if not as much as others monetarily, at least in the knowledge that I'm doing something I love. Even if that something isn't the thing I love the most.
In the meantime, I'm going to start looking into community theaters. Because if you love doing something, why should not getting paid for doing it stop you?
Well, remember, the occupation you wind up in is not the only opportunity you will have to follow your dreams and use your talents. Take it from somebody who has somehow wound up in a seven-year volunteer only job that includes very little of the occupations I dreamt of, there is a whole lot of depth and talent in you as a person. Some things you don't know that you will love and excell at. Sometimes you get to use your skills and be awesome in ways and positions you never even imagined. Life is a variety of possibilities and being a multi-talented person pretty much garauntees that with the right attitude, you will get to use your skills and enjoy it, even if it's not any of the positions you were considering. We have this question, "What will you be when you grow up?" ingrained in us like suddenly in our twenties we are supposed to understand our skills and desires perfectly and select a profession that will make us happy. It's simply not that simple. Now closer to thirty, I am thinking I am understanding myself in an entirely different way than when I was twenty. When I was in my early twenties I oft bemouned my lack of following my dreams. Now, I have seen that in the great richness of life, things go by quickly. What seems like God saying No to your dreams could really be God preparing you for what you really excel at and would be happy at, not just what you think you would be. As long as you keep your life in perspective: What will really matter after I die? and keep an open mind to the possibilities in what life throws at you, you have a full lifetime of adventures and possibilities. All your heartbreaks, failures, and depressions have potential to change you to be a better person, as much as all your successes and triumphs. God did not give you your passions and talents by accident, they all have a purpose. But their use in the grande scheme of life may not be what you expect.
ReplyDelete