I’m at a crossroads. I’ve been here for a good while, just sitting here, waiting for something or someone to come along. If they finally do come, I’m not sure if I want them to stop and pick me up or just want them to slow down long enough to point me in the right direction.
The most famous crossroads I can think of was of course, The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy, after following the yellow brick road for a while comes to two roads, crossed and doesn’t know what direction to take. Thankfully, after some time standing there alone and uncertain, she meets the Scarecrow and together they choose a path. They don’t know if it’s the right one, but they choose it together and head out unaware of what the future holds.
I can identify with Dorothy. I’ve been waiting for a sign or just someone to kick me in my ass to get me moving. I know what I want to do. I actually know what I have to do to accomplish it, but to do it means having to make a decision, a sacrifice; I have to pick a road and no one can help me make the decision but me. In a sense, I feel more like the scarecrow most days, except for the fact that I do indeed have a brain. But, at the end of most days my body is drained, tired and lifeless much like I’ve always imagined his body to be.
If I want to write, I have to write. It’s simple, but, isn’t so easy after a long day of work in my death trap (cubicle) doing something I'm totally bored out of my mind with but, is as stressful as an assignment from Donald Trump (which I could do, by the way). After work is filled with parental duties (none of which I want to give up) and then, finally, I have time and I think about writing every night, I do…But, then my body starts to channel the scarecrow and all I can think about is watching some mindless television for a half an hour and then hitting the sheets.
My mind is exhausted. I think all day. Something I don’t have in common with the Scarecrow. At work I think about, well, work and home and the kids and my marriage and my future…about the cost of getting the front steps fixed, how my house needs cleaned, the rash on my son’s face, how we need a vacation but can't possibly afford one. I think about how I want to write, how I need to write if I ever expect to get published. I think about taking a course and then I think about how much work it’s going to be and if I can’t find the time to blog, when exactly am I going to find the time to finish weekly assignments? I wonder if my age is a factor, if I should have stuck with it years ago when I started this craziness. Too late to worry about that now, I tell myself and then I start my NEW practice of thinking positive and I start all over again. It’s a self destructive process because I think so much about things I get totally overwhelmed and in return, get nothing accomplished.
I guess I want what everyone wants. I want a guarantee. I want to be certain if I put the time in, I will achieve my goals. I want someone to lay it out for me. Let me see how the movie ends before the premiere. I want to know if I should sacrifice right now or should I just enjoy what I have, because I have a great deal of wonderful things in my life.
Unfortunately, just like Dorothy and the Scarecrow, there is no telling what would have happened if they went the other way. Chances are the witch would have still found them and they would have had to battle her and her funky monkeys…BUT,
if they’d gone the other road, they might not have met the Tin man or the Lion and made great friendships during their journey to reach the wizard.
Whatever road I take, I know I will be okay, but do I take the easy way, stay the course, work until retirement and in the end enjoy my life just the same or do I take a chance, make time to write, sacrifice my free time (whatever that is), a clean house and possibly the security of a good job all in the name of chasing a dream?
I’ve already determined I don’t need a brain and there is no question I have the heart. I guess what I’m lacking is the courage, which in the end is everything. I am a Leo so it figures I'd follow the Lion. So that’s it then, I’m afraid of failure. All I need is a little courage and most definitely, the little red shoes.