Sometimes you wonder what could have been.
If your parents had enrolled you in dance classes instead of karate, if you had realized your dreams earlier, if you had gone to a different college, if you had not majored in neuroscience, if you had been born into a family that supported whatever you wanted to do instead of what you needed to do. You realize, that down some other rabbit hole, on another earth, in a parallel universe, you live a life where you're more talented, funnier, and better looking. You don't appear as sad, as in much doubt, or as financially in need as you do in this one, and the unavoidable pang of regret hits you in the stomach full-force, throwing off your motivation to keep doing whatever it is you do.
You wonder if you could ever become a tenth of the successful person/people you see before you, a tenth of whatever it was that sent you into this state of being in the first place. To see someone your age doing something you couldn't fathom doing - performing on stage, for instance, professionally - is more than just a moment of amazement. It a disappointment as well.
This cold slap of [questionable] reality sends you tumbling down a considerably dark path of regret, paralyzing you from realizing that there may be a version of you who's a lot happier now than you are right now. Which, in some cases may be hard to imagine, but in most cases incredibly easy. At times, you wonder if it's not too late to try changing the path you're on, to try becoming this other person you momentarily imagined in the back of your mind.
To learn why this isn't possible, please watch the following educational video:
I like to think that I'm living without regrets, that every choice and mistake and success I've experienced happened for a reason. That being said, I can't say that I don't experience jealousy. When I see incredibly talented dancers perform at my age, I immediately get a sense that somewhere, I'm doing that. Instead, I'm living this version of myself, who apparently daydreams all the time of things he'll probably never be. A friend once told me,
If your parents had enrolled you in dance classes instead of karate, if you had realized your dreams earlier, if you had gone to a different college, if you had not majored in neuroscience, if you had been born into a family that supported whatever you wanted to do instead of what you needed to do. You realize, that down some other rabbit hole, on another earth, in a parallel universe, you live a life where you're more talented, funnier, and better looking. You don't appear as sad, as in much doubt, or as financially in need as you do in this one, and the unavoidable pang of regret hits you in the stomach full-force, throwing off your motivation to keep doing whatever it is you do.
You wonder if you could ever become a tenth of the successful person/people you see before you, a tenth of whatever it was that sent you into this state of being in the first place. To see someone your age doing something you couldn't fathom doing - performing on stage, for instance, professionally - is more than just a moment of amazement. It a disappointment as well.
This cold slap of [questionable] reality sends you tumbling down a considerably dark path of regret, paralyzing you from realizing that there may be a version of you who's a lot happier now than you are right now. Which, in some cases may be hard to imagine, but in most cases incredibly easy. At times, you wonder if it's not too late to try changing the path you're on, to try becoming this other person you momentarily imagined in the back of your mind.
To learn why this isn't possible, please watch the following educational video:
I like to think that I'm living without regrets, that every choice and mistake and success I've experienced happened for a reason. That being said, I can't say that I don't experience jealousy. When I see incredibly talented dancers perform at my age, I immediately get a sense that somewhere, I'm doing that. Instead, I'm living this version of myself, who apparently daydreams all the time of things he'll probably never be. A friend once told me,
"When I look at you,
I see something that didn't happen to me,
and won't ever happen to me."
Of course I felt guilty. I never wanted him, or anyone, to feel like that. I'd like to believe that when I feel the same way, the person/people of whom I get jealous never wanted that to happen either.
However, a part of me is convinced they only feel pity.
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade this year for anything. I'm learning a ton, and I've made it all seem like it's all been one hilarious fleeting encounter after another. But please please please remember that there's been a ton of dark times, and there'll continue to be a lot more. I suppose I just don't like writing about them as much.
I'll finish with one comment: a lot of people have thanked me for the vicarious living I've apparently given them. While I'm flattered, please don't think of it like that. Don't try living through someone else's experiences, peeking through the rabbit hole, attempting to see the other version of you. Live in the life you have right now, and make it as incredible as you possibly can. You never know if a version of you is out there, wondering what could have been if they were living your life.
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