The Empire Paradigm

Opportunity is a sneaky salesman. He's knocked at my door several times in the past three years, but by the time I get up off the couch, comb my hair and put on a bra he's gone and all that's left is an industrial size roll of plastic wrap and a bill for $30.

So it's funny that when I told people I was moving to New York they said, "You're going to the concrete jungle where dreams are made of." Yes, New York is filled with opportunity. But maybe there's a such a thing as too much opportunity.

I admit that I'm a distracted person by nature. Don't take me on a tour; I haven't changed from the Fifth Grade when I got lost at Sturbridge Village because I wanted to go see the blacksmith for a second while everyone else was with the cooper. I read 3 or 4 books at a time because I get bored with reading the same thing every day, and my to do list always is half done because I go on tangents even with cleaning.

Moving here would be the opportunity to leave the dead-end world of newspaper journalism behind and find a career where I could ascend to the top, be a leader, have a higher salary curve. Yes, I took a pay cut to work for a nonprofit but one day I'll be running that nonprofit and running it more sustainably too. I will go back to school, get the Ivy League degree I always dreamed of but was too afraid to pursue and use that to launch my career. I'll write a novel, then a memoir, then run for public office. In-between I'll get back into acting, learn how to be a gourmet cook and go help poor children in Africa.

That's a lot of dreaming but not much making. Every time I start pursing those must-dos and reach a bump in the road, it's far to easy to cut losses and jump to the next item on the list. Or drop the list entirely.

The day-to-day hassles and harried lifestyle that every American endures is a major impediment to pursuing those things, particularly the ones that require money or self-motivation (something I lost somewhere in my 18th year on this earth.) I applied to that Ivy League school and am waiting on a yes or no before I pursue less lofty academic goals and my work has proven to be far less intellectually challenging than I previously thought. The book, well every time I begin to write my lack of confidence stops me in my tracks. If I can't be Steinbeck or Sylvia Plath, what's the point?

Managing expectations is a key part of maintaining sanity as an adult. As a child we dream big things knowing we don't yet have the skills to achieve them, but as an adult it's hard to align dreams with reality. Maybe I will become a CEO of a nonprofit, maybe I will write a book. But it won't be perfect, and it certainly won't happen without trying and maybe failing a time or two.