Rewind, Hold Up! …Start Again?

Learning never ends. A concept I’ve grown fond of over the years (cuz yeah, hello—I’m a Ravenclaw). Regardless, my official career in an academic setting is at an end.

After all the time and money invested in a higher education, it’s only now as graduation looms that I catch a glimpse of where I want to go with my life (screenwriting, for the curious ones).

Is that right?!

Idealistically, the ‘Big Revelation’ should’ve happened when I was freshman, in need of a clear head and eager to pursue the classes best suited to my needs and ambitions.

…Too late.
…Time’s up.
Trod on…

As freshmen, my peers and I had a “welcome to university” class requirement. Our section, led by a grad student, was more of a social hour with the occasional Q&A session. Basically, as long as we completed the assignments, all was golden.

One such assignment asked for self-descriptive essay of our lives in X-years (possibly 10?) While I didn’t have specifics for myself, there were vague ideas that I’d developed over the years. Uni was to be my ticket to the world, the step between branch and sky. A home, a job, and someday maybe even a family.

Realistic enough, I suppose. Except four years later, I’m sitting in a fog denser than I could’ve imagined.

In Disney’s The Kid (great film, totally check it out), Bruce Willis holds a conversation with Jean Smart about childhood dreams. They discuss how people grow up, and dreams evolve into a more ‘realistic’ sense of what must be done to earn a living. The astronaut, the prima ballerina—they get stuffed in a closet, forgotten and collecting dust.

Why should dreams suffer for the sake of a ‘decent’ income? Chase it, dagnabit! Make it work.

That’s how success should be evaluated. Fight for what matters and enjoy the process. It’ll be rough—ohhh, it’ll be rough—and maybe depressing at times. But it trumps falling into a drone routine and rotting with dissatisfaction.

Before uni, I was full of certainty. Now, I don’t know where I’ll be in a couple of weeks, let alone a couple of years. I don’t know what’s in store for my future any more, unless I continue chasing dreams. But I do know I’m open to whatever comes my way. Ideas stampede toward me, and I keep writing. Always writing.