Treat Me Tricks

Realistically speaking, if I were to be paid to do the things I love - the things I wish I could do - I would be very lucky. It's just that... I'm being paid to take over-priced clothes out of cardboard boxes (and horrendously wasteful plastic surrounding each article of clothing) and refolding them to be put on shelves. It's an obvious statement that isn't what I enjoy doing, nor wish to be paid to do.

And before I go any further, I must make it clear that in these times, it is not lost on me that I have a certain degree of luck to even have this job. This is not a post to further dig myself into a hole from anyone's perspective than I already sometimes do. Remember, these and all posts are written for me in the moment for which I write them. These notions will pass and hopefully by the end of this, I will have found the silver lining that keeps me thinking I should stay positive... or that sleep will make it better.

I am passionate about cycling and the sport that has captured me. I wish I could be doing it full time. It isn't that maybe I couldn't see a potential to do this sport full-time in a way that might eventually lead to a professional taste, but it's that my life has been painted in such a way that the notion of such a hope I could commit to cannot exist now without the loss of my more realistic prospect of a future and financial existence. Is that the truth's pill I must regularly swallow? I know that sacrifices have been made by others beyond what I can think of myself doing to make this notion of this passion-fueled dream a reality. I know that I do not have the raw talent that others possess to become great and truly one of the sport's elite. Right?

I mean... what am I in all of this for? Myself? I am finding that harder to believe. Yet, I do believe nearly everything we do is for our own benefit. I like to think that what I do today will make a difference for my better or worse tomorrow. I like to think that I can live in the moment and get out on top. I like to think that I am making the most of everything this life will give me. Am I?

That sentiment is under some serious scrutiny tonight, folks. I keep having these thoughts of mild clarity go through my head that simply lead to racing thoughts of the world I am in. Most recently, I've thought that if I was as idle-minded as the world would have me be, would life just be easier? If I was someone that ignored the blatant lies, didn't see through the schemes media and advertising would have me follow, didn't jab against the fear this world would have me believe trust keeps me safe and aware, if I didn't punctuate, articulate, and communicate my thoughts while the lazy wagged their tongue, or forget that no one changes even when I've been told to stay true to who I am, would life be simpler? Has my wanting to fill my recent existence with as much evident beauty, crudeness, and in-between experience just entirely clouded and hindered my forward self? If I lived where life was tougher, where I fought to survive, had no time for wondering thoughts, where I had to make my own way without the warmth around me, would life's calling have revealed itself? If I couldn't choose my battles because the fight never ceased, would life have it's purpose? Strip it all away and we're all just trying to survive in our best interest; making choices to satisfice from what we have, and to sustain.

I don't care about money if I can do what I love to do. But that's a lie. I have to care. I can't do anything without money in this life. I have no way to support a family one day. Right? I have no way to eat. Right? I have no place to live. Right?

I know I can complain all I want about how little 'ole Johnny can't get his way. What I don't know is whether the way Johnny chooses to go will be enough to make him see that his wish to do what he loves must become worth so much less than what he ends with. Do you see? If I simply can't get what I want, can I find a way to numb what I feel knowing that this is how it is going to be?

I've been told that I am one that could do great things. What I am struggling with is the fear that what it is I will end up doing will not serve any purpose but to support what's around me, put food on a table, and a roof overhead; great for naught - in action and substance. I put pressure on myself, yes. I want to be more. I want to somehow transcend a simple, privileged self.

Readers, I cannot seem to ignore these thoughts, and I don't know if its even good for me to; though it probably would seem that I should, and would be better off - happier in blissful ignorance. That's what you'd do. Right?

I want more out of myself and am trying to figure out where I will find it.

Thanks for reading (but PLEASE not too much into this). Sometimes I just need to get thoughts down and out when stress weighs in. Trust me, there is a lot that I am looking forward to down the road... it's just how I am to get there with how long it will take, and even now while I wait, how can I keep making the most of things? I have been trying for a long time and I need new tricks to keep it going. It's that I need something to fill this time gap of my apparent suspension to make me think that it's all happening this way for a reason and that it's only going to keep getting better. Sometimes I get bored, and I think I need treats to trick me.