Finding My Passion
Today a huge weight slid off my shoulders. I've
made a decision that will surprise some and confirm
others' unspoken predictions. It's not a choice I'm
necessarily proud of, but I believe it's the right
one for me: I have decided not to continue pursuing
a law degree.
Though my life might now become even more
difficult (at least in the short term), I feel
quite liberated. I have been struggling with this
decision for months, and it has weighed on me
heavily. I've considered the issue from all angles,
have deliberated the decision backwards and
forwards, have endeavored to look at all possible
outcomes. I admit that looking into the future and
making choices based on long term goals has never
been my strong suit, but I've done my best this
time to do just that. Only time will tell whether I
succeeded at it, but for now, I feel a confidence
that has been absent for a long time.
Many of my friends and family members found the
decision to attend law school odd and out of
character in the first place, and it took some
effort to explain my motives. Many of those same
people may now wonder why I have seemingly
flip-flopped. Still others might think I'm making
yet another in a string of rash decisions. A few of
you may even question my sanity. I suppose everyone
is justified in such thoughts, so an explanation is
in order.
I did indeed have some academic interest in the
law; my decision to go back to school was not
strictly motivated by the desire to pursue a
lucrative career. If it were, I probably would have
considered getting an MBA (quicker and less
expensive). But after a professional life that more
closely resembled a seesaw than a career, the
desire for a more financially stable life
admittedly did factor into the equation. I did my
homework, however, so I knew as much as I could
about what I was getting into without actually
getting into it. I entered law school with a
wide-open mind, accepting the possibility that it
might not be for me, but knowing I had to try it to
find out.
As some of you in whom I have confided know, my
doubts manifested early on. Though I found some of
the material interesting, and got involved in some
extracurricular activities, I grew more certain
every day that this was not something I wanted to
do for the rest of my life (or any significant
portion thereof). These feelings continued to grow,
and soon became a major distraction. Each day, as I
sat in class, I wrestled with the issue in my mind,
questioning whether or not I was doing the right
thing. Finally, I sought out the help of an
academic counselor, who convinced me to just ride
it out through finals, and use the winter break to
come to terms with things one way or the other.
I did just that, but was still wracked with
indecision. Every time I felt firmly one way, I
second-guessed myself, and the pendulum would swing
back the other way. On the one hand, a legal career
might impose some stability and structure on my
life; on the other hand, I would likely graduate
with $100,000 or more in student loan debt (average
for a majority of law students), a prospect which
terrified me to the core. Of course, I knew this
latter possibility going in, but at the time, I
felt confident in my chances of earning another
scholarship in subsequent years—a confidence
that has since ebbed.
In addition to the stress induced by the
indecision, I also felt the pressure of being
thirty-six years old and not having my life figured
out. I suppose, to some degree, that pressure has
been a large part of what held me back from making
any decision until now. I knew in my heart that law
school was not for me, but I felt that if I threw
in the towel, I would be taking a giant step
backward into failure. It would be admitting that,
in middle age, I'm no closer to success than I was
when I graduated from college. It would feel like
the sacrifices of the past year were all for
naught.
But somehow, at some point this week, that
pressure dissipated. I realized that I'm okay with
not having it figured out. Life is a journey. It
has a beginning and an end, but between the two,
there are an infinite number of interconnected
paths leading in all directions. Some are more
well-traveled, and thus seem like the proper way to
go. But they all lead to the same place,
eventually. I've realized that, for me anyway, the
path itself is the goal, not the arrival at some
future point along the path. I've always known
this, but have tried to deny my nature and push
myself into some traditional notion of
Career/Success/Business, into someone else's idea
of what I should strive for in life.
I believe the events of the past year—the
hardships in my personal life as well as the
uncertainty about law school—have been
necessary to get me to this point. I hesitate to
use the term "awakening," because of its New
Age/pop-psych connotations, but I do essentially
feel "awakened." I feel like the losses I've
endured in the past year have been less like
suffering and more like molting. Without minimizing
or devaluing them, I do think they've given me a
freedom I haven't felt in a long time. A freedom to
pursue my true calling (if I can be allowed to use
such a trite term).
I've done a lot of soul searching to come to
this decision, and I've realized that I have always
had two passions in my life, no matter what else I
may have been doing: writing and travel. I could
fill this page with all of the different jobs or
occupations I've worked since high school.
Throughout all of them, these two pleasures have
always been there. During high school, I wrote and
produced neighborhood plays for Halloween. In the
Navy, I wrote monthly newsletters and serialized
sci fi dramas for my shipmates (all of whom starred
as the cast of characters). In the post-college
years, I wrote screenplays and made extra money on
the side as a freelance writer. Even in my one
semester of law school, I found an outlet by
writing for the school's newspaper. And my love of
travel has always been there, whether spending a
year abroad in high school, seeing the world in the
Navy, or using my severance pay from Disney on a
two-month trip to Europe.
I don't know what my future holds; I don't have
any unrealistic expectations that I'll be able to
make a comfortable living as a writer (though I'll
give it my best shot). Even in a good economy, it's
a highly competitive (and often low paying)
occupation. But I know I'll achieve
success—my version of success, not
anyone else's—as long as I give priority to
those two passions. As long as I build my life
around them, then I'll be happy, even if I have to
support my writing and traveling habits by working
at Starbuck's.
©2003 Michael
Strickland ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
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