Jen Frankel Blog Entry
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So I head off at the end of the month for LA -- the proverbial "lalaland" as my friend P puts it. I have one meeting set up so far, with slots for eight more in my schedule (I've been told to leave A LOT of driving time between appointments). And that's really that. I have both feet on the road, and I'm not planning on doing more than stopping every now and then for a good meal or a night's sleep along the way. Maybe a nap or two, or a trip to IKEA with P and her cute son.
It's a strangely humbling thing to realize there's nothing standing between you and your dreams.
I came to that realization a while ago, but have remained in deep denial of it. Because, and this is the undeniable truth, the opportunity to achieve your dreams requires a much larger amount of personal responsibility than to let your dreams pass you by.
There's no blame attached to anyone, not even me, that it's taken so long to believe how much the world can offer. I spent a lot of years in "The Gulag," living in a town that, while a lovely place, offered me nothing but the satisfaction of knowing I could not succeed. There's a lot of security in the idea that the world is working against you and it's something outside you that's holding you back. I know that was my only solace for years, despite being aware at some level that I was making excuses.
Humility has also come from the realization that, while I am a good writer, I will only be as good as I want to be when more time has elapsed. I will be better because I am writing, and learning how to hone my skills. I will be better when I've learned from others, and from the kinds of idiosyncracies that fill every writer's work. I'll learn by writing and reading, and that's a life-long process.
Jen Frankel accepts the limitations of timing
The secret of comedy is, as the old joke goes, timing. Timing is also the secret of learning.
Much as in my youth I fantasized about being an informational black hole, sucking up whatever knowledge came my way with the appetite of the gourmand, I recognize now that you can only learn what's useful. I can read a technical manual on our finicky router when I need to reset it. Otherwise, the information just won't stick. In fact, I probably won't even be able to force myself to sit down with it.
Maybe when I was young I had a broader idea of what was useful, but it seems to me, in the glorious re-imagining of my youth, that I used to learn more indiscriminately. Of course, that's really a thing of debatable value. Yes, I read everything I could get my hands on, from literature to textbooks to the labels on toothpaste. Yes, I retained enough information that even now I'm a very good Trivial Pursuit partner. But was I building my way toward anything in particular? That is something I don't see.
I tried very hard over the years between age 13 or 14 and 20 to manipulate myself into a being of pure dedication. I was adamant in my beliefs about social justice, about the dangers of overpopulation and greed, about personal discipline and dedication to ideals.
But I lacked a true direction, because I was completely unable to admit to anyone, even myself, that I even had dreams, much less would dedicate myself to achieving them.
Jen Frankel tries to catch a dream
Dreams are funny. They require a focus, which to an outsider has to, necessarily, look like you're chasing a rainbow. But I have dreams, and I don't want to deny them any longer.
I have a little plaque in my bathroom given to me by my aunt a couple of Christmases ago: "Dreams can't come true if you don't have any."
When I opened it on Christmas morning, I felt my heart leap to a strange place, a place that felt like something from a dream itself. It was like the moment when you meet an apparent stranger, but feel so, so strongly that you've met before and it was wonderful. I saw the missing piece in the puzzle of my life. It's very useful when such messages come cast in plaster so you can put them somewhere to remind yourself of them every day.
I guess my problem always was that I was afraid to stand up for my dreams in the way I wasn't for complete strangers or big ideals. I was willing to tell everyone at high school I hated to drink because I refused to be out of control even for a second, but wouldn't spend any time wondering what it was that I should be doing with my actual life.
Jen Frankel takes it one day at a time
Part of the reason I was depressed for so many years was that I allowed myself, by denying my dreams, to become completely other-focussed, and future-focussed. Instead of thinking about what I could achieve on a day-to-day basis, I worried about where I'd be eventually. Well, eventually never happens if you don't pay attention to now. That's the hard lesson I've learned.
The thing is, like I was saying before, you can't learn something before you're ready to learn it. I think I could have been told exactly what I stated above ten years ago, and I probably wouldn't have heard it at all.
And I don't regret the long path I've taken to get to the place where I can finally seen the rainbow in the distance. I'm not going to get prosaic and fey about the life experience, wonderful people I've met. I think it would have been just as amazing to get to the start of my true road quicker. But that's not the way it played out, and I'm starting now, so there's nothing to worry about. It's never too late for anything you want to do.
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