Saturday, 10 November 2012

Evolution ... Devolution

The other day, as I sat perfectly still while getting railroaded, I wondered to myself, "How did I get here where clearly incompetent people can take credit for my work?"  I felt defeated.  In the course of the last 11 years, I went from being admitted to Trinity College on a scholarship, mobilizing 30,000 people in leagues and events and running world renowned programs to developing and launching pittily little events under the portfolio of someone who has no idea of the value of my contributions.  What happened to my career?

I feel like Finn on Glee: someone who was always told he would do great things, but whose confidence was lost in the rush to find out what they were.

I was told every day of my life that I was "meant to do great things".  Oh, I am still told this to this day.  It actually stings a little.  I can't figure out what those things are.  But this is said to me in such good spirit, I can never reproach a person for it.  And why would I?  I don't disagree.  I still think it's true.

In the distant past, I tried to deal with it by seeing my ventures as biding time: getting ready to pounce, dipping my feet in different waters only to accumulate an evermore rich history of experience.

In the more recent past, I tried to accept that maybe this is my life - that I'm a drifter, a tumbleweed - but this analogy fails to account for one very important quality I have: my commitment to delivering my best and my desire for recognition of my contributions.  These are my constants.

I don't think that the "great things" I will do in this lifetime will come from sitting still. I also don't think I will ever have some grand epiphany about what I am meant to do or to be.  I aim to excel in all that I do. I just need to keep doing that ... and walk away when I don't.
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