Image thanks to shandi-lee
I often feel beleaguered by my own ambition. I wouldn't call myself an over-achiever, but I do place a great deal of pressure on myself with my personal goals. In the past year or so I've gotten to that place where I really feel like my dreams need to be realities, like I haven't been doing enough to achieve them, or that maybe they are just that... dreams. This phenomenon is also known as the quarter-life crisis.
This is dangerous territory; a sort of contemporary rite of passage, where you either soar, or sink. This is the graveyard where youthful ambition gets buried; because our kind of ambition is tricky; because it feels like a fairytale; because it is too scary to admit it to the adult world. Your early twenties seem to me to be a place where your aspirations are being pooh-poohed at every turn, by yourself as much as by others, and clinging on to them against all the odds is a rocky road of grazed knees and bruised ego.
Today I read this by Danielle LaPorte. Awesome coach. Internet extravaganza. A woman making waves, and a living to boot. The quality of the article speaks for itself. But what interested me most about the piece wasn't the moral, or the narrative genius. It was actually a totally insignificant detail that proved to significantly knock me of my feet. What was it? Only the fact that she, Danielle LaPorte, my ultimate icon of internet business success, was once a perfume girl. A shop worker. A lowly minion, like me!
This made me realise something awesome: that where I am now – at the beginning, an education-system fish out of water – is okay. I've got a whole life left to spend being spectacular, and I'm only just at the start of it. Minion today, maven tomorrow. I may not be a successful author, princess of personal profit, or international inspirer... yet. But I still could be those things, and more. My blog may not have rocked the world, but it’s rocked a select group of beautiful readers, and that’s something to be proud of; that’s the start.
The world is still my oyster, it's still yours.
And wherever you are now: it's okay, this is just the start.