Repress No More

In many ways, I try to convince myself I live a life very much outside one would consider a comfort zone.  However, I've recently (as in the last ten minutes) realized that I deliberately bury myself into oblivion.  Every time I hear about unfortunate things happening I purposely block it out, and in some ways, am selfish because I choose to be completely soaked up into my own "problems".  When in actuality, I have nothing but a fantastic life and shouldn't complain or stress out about anything.  I know I'm not the only person like this.  We all complain and bitch about school or work stress, relationship problems, lack of money, not being able to purchase something we desperately hunger for in the mall... when there are people who "suffer" from far worse complications and situations.  These people don't want pity or sympathy from anyone - including themselves.  

Someone diagnosed with a life threatening disease isn't going to wallow in self pity.  They see one thing - survival, and they'll keep their spirits high and do what they have to do in order to truck through the treacherous situation.

So why is it, that when people in terrible situations don't bitch and complain - but when you (me, or anyone) bump your leg, you'll complain and bitch to your heart's content and let everyone know how pissed off you are that your bruise is going to clash with the color of the dress you were supposed to wear Saturday night.  

I think a lot of us repress these terrible situations that people are going through because it's painful to acknowledge it.  We can't really be selfish can we?  Why do we choose to purposely repress the world around us?  Why do we close our eyes or turn our heads when we walk by a homeless person begging for change on the corner of the street?  We see them.  We know they're there.  So why?  Why do we keep on walking with our heads held high?

I think I'm finished complaining about bruises.  I think I'm finally ready to step outside of the circle I painted around myself.  I'm ready to open my eyes and look at the world around me.  I'm finished with repressing.

What do I want to be when I grow up?

Did you ever hold a feeling deep in your subconscious that erupted ever so often?  Ever since I was small, I held a strong suspicion that I was meant to do something significant with my life.  I was always the kind of person that held onto belief in coincidences, superstition and was constantly on the lookout for "signs" or "symbols" that were to point me in the direction of my great fate.

I can't exactly put my finger on or point out what I'm meant to do, but a big part of me believes I'm going to excel in something - and excel greatly.  I've had this feeling since I was a child, and forever since then have been on the lookout for "signs" or "symbols" to give me hints as to what this may be.  I'm not even exactly sure what I want to do with my life.  My mind continuously races from idea to idea - from career to career.  I know that I'm going to Cape Breton University and taking my bED when I graduate from Mount A.  

Most people go to university or college after high school because they see it as the next stone to step on - and what's expected - and what's to be done, so they do it.  Most people pick and choose from the same careers they narrowed down on a piece of paper in high school. What ever happened to their picks they'd draw in pictures with crayon on a piece of paper in elementary school, when they dreamed bigger than the box they inevitably close themselves inside of growing up?  

They often neglect these dreams because fear of ridicule from friends and family - and fear of failure to live up to these expectations.

My strong suspicion tells me to neglect the safe choice and to wander out on the limb of adventure, because my insides tell me I'll exceed my own, and everyone else's, expectations.  So what do I want to do with my life?  A fashion designer?  Interior design?  Shoes?  Clothes?  Purses? Accessories?  A painter?  A photographer?  Hollywood wardrobe stylist?  Vacation tour director?  Graphic designer? A novelist?  An author?

I think I hold too much creativity and ambition to be locked inside of a classroom teaching kids about proportion and perspective.  Why should I abandon what I'm most passionate about, only to adopt to what is considered the safe choice?  Why should I settle with just a regular or normal "job" when my insides scream that I'm supposed to amount to a lot more than that.

So, I'll continue to search for "signs" and "symbols" that tell me what dream I should attempt to live out.