The "Real" World
So here I am. Right where I wanted to be. Where I have dreamed of since I was a little girl. I am in the "real world" and have freedom. There is something exhilarating about having freedom. You can do virtually whatever you would like when you get home from work. You can throw the ingredients you have in the oven together and call it dinner. You can take three baths in a day. You can not shower at all. You can do truly anything.
I guess that is what I had been told all my life by many of the people around me. My parents told me that I was capable of anything. I could be anyone and hold any occupation. I could be the first person on Mars. I wanted to be a plethora of things at a young age. First, I wanted to be a cowgirl like Jessie from Toy Story. That did not last long once I realized that there was not really a "salary" for cowgirls, and my realistic and logical mind would not let my imagination run too wild. Next, and for definitely a longer span of time, I wanted to be an astronaut. My parents got me books about NASA and I even went to the Kennedy Space Center on a family trip to Florida, which happened to fall on my fifth birthday I might add. I talked about space and geeked out when I met an astronaut and talked to him about his space adventures. That aspiration dwindled once I saw shuttle crash videos and read about all of the risks of space travel. Again, my logic won. Then came my goals of going into medicine and performing autopsies and doing CSI work. But I passed out while dissecting fetal pigs in third grade so that dream later died.
Fast forward to now. Now I am in the "real world" where I have so many options. Where I can be whoever I want to be and do anything I would like to do. But, ugh. My fear of missing out (FOMO) weighs in again. I could transfer offices, and spend some time in a distant land. I could stay right where I am, and get more involved in my community. I could quit my job tomorrow, and pursue a career in interpretive dance. (All hypothetical, I promise.)
All of this being said, I do not know what tomorrow will bring. I guess that is why I wanted to start blogging. The title of my blog is "La Optimista Ciega" or in English "The Blind Optimist" which truly translates to multiple aspects of my life. First of all, my eyesight is horrendous. I will mistake a purse for my dog. I can't see my hands from my face. But I don't cry about it, and just laugh and put my contacts in. My life is like that right now, too.
I do not know what tomorrow will bring. I am blind to my future. There are so many options, but I do not know who Mackenzie Lynn Stogsdill will be next year or even next month. I do not know what my life has in store for me. But I could either cry not knowing what my future holds, or I can be excited knowing that I can be anything I want to be.
Winston Churchill once said "a pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
I guess that is what I had been told all my life by many of the people around me. My parents told me that I was capable of anything. I could be anyone and hold any occupation. I could be the first person on Mars. I wanted to be a plethora of things at a young age. First, I wanted to be a cowgirl like Jessie from Toy Story. That did not last long once I realized that there was not really a "salary" for cowgirls, and my realistic and logical mind would not let my imagination run too wild. Next, and for definitely a longer span of time, I wanted to be an astronaut. My parents got me books about NASA and I even went to the Kennedy Space Center on a family trip to Florida, which happened to fall on my fifth birthday I might add. I talked about space and geeked out when I met an astronaut and talked to him about his space adventures. That aspiration dwindled once I saw shuttle crash videos and read about all of the risks of space travel. Again, my logic won. Then came my goals of going into medicine and performing autopsies and doing CSI work. But I passed out while dissecting fetal pigs in third grade so that dream later died.
Fast forward to now. Now I am in the "real world" where I have so many options. Where I can be whoever I want to be and do anything I would like to do. But, ugh. My fear of missing out (FOMO) weighs in again. I could transfer offices, and spend some time in a distant land. I could stay right where I am, and get more involved in my community. I could quit my job tomorrow, and pursue a career in interpretive dance. (All hypothetical, I promise.)
All of this being said, I do not know what tomorrow will bring. I guess that is why I wanted to start blogging. The title of my blog is "La Optimista Ciega" or in English "The Blind Optimist" which truly translates to multiple aspects of my life. First of all, my eyesight is horrendous. I will mistake a purse for my dog. I can't see my hands from my face. But I don't cry about it, and just laugh and put my contacts in. My life is like that right now, too.
I do not know what tomorrow will bring. I am blind to my future. There are so many options, but I do not know who Mackenzie Lynn Stogsdill will be next year or even next month. I do not know what my life has in store for me. But I could either cry not knowing what my future holds, or I can be excited knowing that I can be anything I want to be.
Winston Churchill once said "a pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty."
Comments
Post a Comment