Strife's an addiction

A lot of what you read in this blog is me trying to make sense of crap that seemingly keeps happening to me, and makes me feel like there's no progress to next steps.  Even when I forcibly take the giant leaps I need to take in order to make a difference in my life and improve my mental health, it's never an easy thing to do.  There's always 40 things surrounding it that make the simplest task or decision life altering, immensely stressful, and which ultimately make me feel like I'm beating my head against brick walls and fighting the forces of nature that will eventually crush me like a bug between its palms just for the fun of it.

*sigh*

It's true.  Life (particularly mine) seems to be riddled with endless examples of angst.  Strife.  A constant tug of war pulling on what I feel is my true purpose and calling, and what I'm stuck doing til I get the opportunity to do what I want to do every single day, and finally enjoy my existence without worry.  Can I get an amen?

Then I read this by Wil Wheaton.  I took up reading his blog WIL WHEATON dot NET about a month or so ago, and honestly have enjoyed it.  I read him regularly.  I was never really a fan of Star Trek, and am not "that sci fi, gaming kind of geek".  But I am a theatre geek.  AND, I am a writer geek.  And if I had all the money in the world, I would spend my time writing in my office, scheduled around the time I spent being a full time mom to my daughter, just like him.  I wouldn't be sitting behind a computer fighting insanely political, time wasting corporate battles for a bunch of drones who think they mean more than they do, and who can't pull two challenging ideas into a bigger picture to save their lives.

And I realized that the reasons I feel the angst I feel is because every day feels like a failed audition for that role I'm still not able to play.  Maybe what I'm forgetting or incapable of accepting, is that this is the dream.  This is the role.  This is the job I'm going to do - and when I finally get to retire dagnabit, no doubt I'll be babysitting grand kids or travelling, or goodness gracious, cleaning up after and cooking for that wonderful husband of mine whom I spent a decade or more of my life praying for and auditioning with other ill fated dates, until we finally met.

It all keeps coming back to this.  Wil Wheaton should not have to audition for roles to play - good grief, I wish I had his resume and noteriety.  And the fact that he is, well, I think says more about a ridiculously 2 dimensional industry than it says about him as an actor.  Either he loves acting so very much that it's worth the batting average heartache, or like me, he's still hoping, wishing and praying and trying really damn hard to be that thing he is not.  I should not be worrying about how to change careers any more than he should be.  I can dabble and write here any day I have a spare moment, and if I'm so inclined I can write elsewhere, anything I choose and at any time without the pressure of an editor or a publisher chomping and burning up my phone lines wondering where's chapter 11.  Eventually I'll be able to retire, and writing can be my priority.  Sorta like I always figured it would be.

But until then I have a steady and reliable income that supports my first and only real true love, my family.  Comfortably even.  It sucks, but what "job" doesn't?  In the grander scheme of things, the job is not who I am, and if I got my way today, I'd gladly change what I did all day, BUT, I'd do it for the enjoyment.  Not the cash flow.  So this is as it should be.  For me, and possibly him.  I'm going to stop believing that everything I do is with an aim to allow me more freedom to do the things that I want to do, cuz let's face it...it won't ever be that way til I'm not working for the man.  And instead, I'm going to believe more that they are the reflection of a person who is doing what needs to be done to allow my family the necessities and even possibly some of the wants they wish to be fulfilled.  That's a purpose driven life.

And maybe Mr. Wheaton can feel similarly.  That an audition is not a failure or a success, but rather time spent in crafting one's purpose.  And if it's something he loves, he can sustain it and remember that it's a process.  Or he can put it in perspective and realize (hopefully from reading this post), that he just changed someone's outlook on their own life by what he wrote.  And then maybe he'll realize that's a pretty awesome purpose in life to be blessed with.  And he's already infinitely more successful at this most beloved craft than I would dream of being.

And if in fact he does read this, then maybe he'll also get to this final observation - the greats in any art or science were always their greatest postmortem.  So, he should consider himself absolutely gifted (and I'm sure he does, but sometimes it's nice to be reminded) to be so well recognized for his art in his own lifetime.  He shouldn't be wasting his time auditioning for the awesomeness that is already his life.  Least of all feeling badly about an audition that didn't go his way.  And neither should we.

It gives people who don't matter waaaay too much control over things they know nothing about.