Supportive People
How much do you fear success?
My whole life, I wanted to be an engineer.
As I kid, I loved anything creative (probably explains my hobby collection) from writing to knitting. But, being something of a realist, I understood writing wasn’t a stable career.
Wanting a career with stability and creativity, I decided to be an engineer, so I could invent new things. (Not all engineers get to invent new things, but I’ve been blessed with a career path that does.)
I once shared this ambition with a youth councilor. She checked my test scores and informed me that wasn’t an option. My math skills were too low. So, I would have to pursue something else.
Around this same time, my grandfather taught me the basics of electronics.
Later, I attended college where, I surrounded myself with peers and mentors who supported my dreams. After lots of hard work, I graduated with a degree in Electrical Engineering despite my challenges. (And yes, the math classes were some of the most difficult for me.)
There isn’t room here to give credit to all the people who supported me and my goals, but I didn’t do it alone.
It’s easy to get discouraged with all the negative voices in the world. Especially when they claim to be the voice of reason, science, statistics, truth, or love.
The world is overwhelming.
For this reason, surrounding myself with and listening to supportive people have been the best things I’ve ever done.
I can be a little slow at times. But my people have finally inspired me to stop being a realist. Because being a realist looks like shattered dreams and it feels like fear.
Fear that I might fail.
Fear that I might get rejected.
Fear that this is as good as it gets.
I realize now that my belief in a limited reality has held me back.
Which is why I’m finally taking a leap and pursuing my dream of becoming a published author.
The truth is, there is far more in this world for us, if we open our minds and hearts to embrace it.
What risks are you glad to have taken?
On a personal note:
My kid is currently going through a 72 hour EEG. So he has a bunch of electrodes on his head, held on with bandages. The wires go through a rope and connect to a base unit in a backpack.
We have to follow him around everywhere with the backpack, like a leash.
If you've made it this far, please enjoy the sounds of my techno-mummy-baby-dog laughing at me as I untangled the water hose this weekend.