I sit down to consider what I want to be when I grow up.
Brain is scared…overwhelmed by the request I made to just think about a proactive vision for my life. Brain worries about how vulnerable I will be—to failure, criticism, shame, judgment, DEATH.
And even as I watch the Drama Queen at work, I am struck with a certainty that I will overcome this fear. My path is unclear, but my trajectory seems inevitable. Not that it will always be smooth or free from failure, but that it will always begin and end with me.
I notice that Brain wants to think of my trajectory as EVER UPWARDS…like a superhero disappearing into the sky, or the graph of infinite growth every business school student is taught to pine for.
But I’m starting to instinctively shy away from linear language—even within my own mind. I’m starting to really internalize (if only for brief, quiet moments) the fact that there is no THERE there. That there is no goal except to venture and return to myself, over and over and over. Like a loyal and curious pet, I explore and excavate, digging things up from the forest and running back excitedly to drop new lessons at my own feet.