There have been times in my life when those excuses were mine. Times when I felt paralyzed because things seem so insurmountable, the deck is stacked against me. Giving up would be so easy. I don't mean suicide - there are ways to give up that don't include ending it all. Staying in bed, becoming a recluse.
But in the end, what would that prove? When you have parents, when you do not have to care for yourself and be fully responsible for yourself, it's easy to give up. When there's no safety net, then things get a little different.
I came across an expression that resonated with me - Stay Hungry. It means: "to remain determined, competitive, motivated, and active on one's hopes, ambitions, or goals; to keep oneself from becoming complacent or self-satisfied with less than one might potentially achieve." And I'll fully admit I have gone through a lot of life with either no "hunger" or very little "hunger". It's not that things were given to me (far from it!) but that "hunger" was never fostered or developed. And, for some reason, it seems that my life has gone from catastrophe to catastrophe so mere survival became my focus. There was no room for "hunger" if just taking the next step was enough to consume me. And, any time when I might have been provided an opportunity to develop that hunger, I often gave up.
No, that's not completely true. I remember a particular year in university when I was taking more than the recommended course load. The recommended average was 4 full-time courses. I was taking 2 full-time and 6 part-time. In one semester. I remember coming close to panicking. I remember sitting in my advisor's office in tears, not sure how I would make it through.
I was a poor Canadian student from rural Manitoba attending a rather elite private American college. I'm not sure what my father thought, but I know my mother was not pleased at all. She frequently told me that I did not deserve this, I was not qualified to be there. I'm not sure what she wanted for me, but getting an education was not one of those things. In my mother's mind, girls do not go to university, much less a private American one! Who did I think I was?? (Those words still ring in my ears today, decades after her passing.) In retrospect, my mother's family had 8 children (she was the youngest) and about 24 grandchildren. I was the youngest granddaughter (of 9) and the first granddaughter to get a university degree. To say I was breaking the mold was an understatement. Females just didn't get university degrees. On my father's side, of 4 children, he was the oldest, and 7 grandchildren. I was the oldest granddaughter (of 5) and the first (and only) one to get a university degree. For the four years I attended college, paying money I know my parents did not have, working for my father's construction company every summer and working on campus, and receiving the maximum governmental assistance I could get, I never felt that I deserved the opportunity. I worked hard - paying those fees at a time when I know I could receive very little assistance from my parents, I often felt that this was meant for others but not for me. I worked hard, I studied hard. I sacrificed many social opportunities because I had to make every penny count. Even if no one knew about this but me. Every phone call I received from my mother was full of accusatory and disparaging comments about my unworth for this. Thankfully, when the tuition was paid, I had to continue my studies. That would be wasteful, and that's one thing we didn't do - waste money! (Even though, this was definitely seen as a form of that.) And, it was a semester-by-semester struggle. To this day, I don't know how I did it - completed my degree. I took my major based on what I thought my mother would approve of ... but in retrospect, there is nothing that she would have approved of. I think it was because I had the opportunity to go to higher education and she did not. That, plus other problems she had, cast a dark shadow over not only my university years and learning but long into my adult years, too.
Why be hungry when you don't deserve any of it anyway? I was hungry when I was at university. I worked hard. I was determined to get the best grades I could. I know, without a doubt, that I could not have got better grades than I did. I was motivated to do my best. But I wasn't competitive, and I had no idea what my goals were. Maybe that's one reason my life took the path it did. When you don't know where you're going, when you doubt you should even be there to begin with and you don't deserve it, then there's no path to take and you'll never 'arrive'.
It's decades later now. May of this year, I will have graduated 33 years ago. Both my parents have passed and, for all purposes, I'm alone and on the path to be an elder orphan. And I look back over my life and I can't help but get angry. Angry that I was cheated out of a life that so many others have. Angry that I never came into my own. Angry that I feel that I've lost at this game called life. And then ... I realize that I am sounding like my friends. What's more, I'm not dead yet. And though my life has been almost random, the path more circuitous than most, definitely not climbing up any ladder rungs! you know what? maybe I'm starting to feel a bit of that hunger. As I often say to myself, I'm not dead yet. And if I'm not dead (believe me, there have been a few points along the way where it would have been easy enough to take me out!), then there must be something I have not yet finished. Some goal I have not yet achieved. I need to stop being complacent and get going.
So, I will develop a hunger:
I will be hungry - for knowledge, for growth, for passion, for purpose.
I will be hungry - for people who have walked my path already and turned their life around.
I will be hungry - for giving, for contributing, for acting on my education and my experience in the world.
I will be hungry - for that which I have not yet done and I have yet to do.
I will do this for myself and for others, for who I am and created to be ... and not for who I was told that I was. It's time to put my mother to rest. It's time to make my mark on this moment in time.
My path was not for nothing.
I am not for nothing.
Who do I think I am? I'm still becoming ... and I am full potential.
I'm not dead yet!
