A Thought on Progression (or lack there of)

A thought came to me today, a thought of hope and despair. I am on this track in my life right now that is supposed to bring about great rewards but when properly analyzed this path that I’m on has no clear end. I’m being vague.
Let me start by saying, I know, I shouldn’t complain. I am generally thought to be pretty and funny and smart and ambitious, yadda, yadda, yadda. I know that I have a lot going for me. I know I have the ability to put words together to form sentences that clearly portray the message I intend to communicate. I know that is a good thing, a thing many struggle to do. But do these words capture your mind and take hold so that you wish they would go on for 500 pages? Is my writing so great that thousands of people would pay for the privilege of reading it? I don’t think so.

I know that I am smart. I have the ability to comprehend all sorts of things. I can read, write, add, subtract and can even sit around with my friends and discuss matters difficult for many to understand such as quantum physics. But is this intelligence such that it can send men to the moon? It is not. I will not be receiving any prizes for my amazing abilities in science or math (trust me!).

And yes, what girl doesn’t want to be considered pretty? I know my fair skin and big blue eyes are a good combination but will this help me in any career? My looks are not so that people would pay to have my picture or stand in line simply to catch a glimpse of my face.

And what of art? I can put a pencil to a paper and with an ample amount of time recreate anything two dimensional, is that more then most can do? Perhaps. Is that enough? No. I do not have the talent it takes to take the tools of an artist and use creativity to create something that has never been seen before, something so well appriciated it should grace the halls of museums and the halls of gallerys.

I know so many wildly talented people I sometimes wonder how my mediocrity is looked over. Does no one else realize I am the only one around just going through the motions? Perhaps the problem doesn’t lie in a lack of ability to shine but rather a desire. Maybe the fact that I don’t write 500 pages worth of words and attempt to get them read is the only reason they are not. Perhaps the fact that I don’t attempt to create art is the reason I am not an artist. I think that what I lack isn’t a talent but rather it’s the drive to figure out what that talent is. Just because i wasn’t born with the knowledge of my talent doesn’t mean I don’t have one. Perhaps I could be a writer, an artist AND a physicist if only I would make an attempt.

Ah and there comes the real thing I’m lacking, guts. A fear of failure prevents effort. And the funny thing is my very logical and analytical mind realizes that failure doesn’t mean failure! Failure can very well mean progress, so long as something is learned by the failure. One could write five books before one was great. Or one could discover one was a horrible writer only to give up on this craft and move on to art to discover one was truly meant to be a sculptor. While I know that I will have to try if I ever want to feel more then so-so my irrational, emotional self keeps imposing these chains holding me close to what is safe and ho-hum.

Maybe I should go sky diving.