Wherever Those Dreams May Lead: Passion

Lately I've been reading a lot of articles. Articles about passion, articles about moving on and letting go, articles about being true to oneself, and of course some articles about life enlightenment. This all happened exactly at the same time of when I realized that I had lost myself.

No, it's not that I was wandering around in the middle of forest while reading them and then I couldn't return to my place. I'm not that reckless (or perhaps am I?).

I still remember when in High School the institution taught its all students about Igantian Spirits, which one of is Magis, getting better and better as a person through daily reflection made into a journal. I didn't understand how I would be a better person by per se, in fact, all students and I tried our best to ditch the obligation.

But now I do. And I also have to laugh at and give a bit of cynical smile to that teenager from few years ago that underestimated the valuable teaching from his notable beloved Canisius College High School.

It wasn't but until I applied the reflection for I could realize how meaningless I had been living my life, trying to catch people's eyes of awe and goodmouth by doing things I never really dreamed of. It's not that I hate debating, MUN, or being a delegate of (or working for) AMSA (which technically have been my only activities for the past couple of years). In fact, a lot of jubilance and lessons I've received there. The problem is more like, where exactly my soul harbours. Because without being with your very own soul by ending up in the wrong port, that's the very moment of your death even when you're still bodily alive.

That's exactly what happened to me. I didn't feel alive, or somehow life had become a constant monotonous robotic activity without passionate spirit, or both. This is the point where I thought something might have gone so wrong for long.

For only God knows since when, I always had this jealousy towards people whose talents were astounding me, that most of times I wished I could have been like them. I envied them for every trophy and certificate of reward they received. I felt unsatisfied if I couldn't do and accomplish what other people could.

I was the one who didn't respect the authenticity of myself. I didn't accept myself for who I am.

After reading all of those articles I mentioned in the first paragraph, I started to think "what and who exactly am I? What am I authentically good at? What is it that I am and only I was born for?", which I struggled for some days with those questions, wondering what the answers were.

Unfortunately, it turned out I had been being someone else but myself for just too long that I ended up forgetting my true gifted identity.

So there was this article telling "remember what we used to do that we enjoyed it so much, something we had been doing since childhood", in short, that our special thing has been with us for the whole of our lives, it's not taught nor to be seeked for, it's written in our DNA and is instinctive.

I was then "aha!". I remembered there were these 3 things I had done in childhood making me forget time and forget I lacked of energy: Mathematics, Art & Music, and Journalism.

To some extents, although pessimistically, I told myself that to chase after the dreams of living life by mathematics or art & music was already too little too late (and this is where I learn of letting go of some dreams). However, there's perhaps still a room for my passion in journalism.

I remember when I was a child I always loved reading everything whenever I had chance to. Newspaper, random books I found, articles I accidentally saw when I passed by, and whatsoever. I was just happy to be able to read, especially when my dad bought me new books. Nonetheless even my dad told me once that I had snatched a newspaper my father was reading while I was a baby who couldn't at all read, trying to read the newspaper imitating my old man. Somehow it was also always easy for me whenever the elementary school teachers gave assignments to compose a story (either real or fiction); it didn't take long at all for me to write them down which the pencil/pen just ran smoothly on the pieces of paper of my book.

I don't ask much for this dream I've been longing to come true. I don't ask to be a news anchor or to be a talkshow host, or to be a book author (although I wish I could); I just ask for myself to be at least a columnist that my writing would be read by a lot of people and give great good impact to them.

I only want to share stories of mine, stories of others, stories of new & old things, and stories of those worth telling. Getting to some experiences, and then utilizing them as instrument to drive life passion for everyone, then passing them from one person to next person, from one generation to next generation.

This time, I don't need for what I do to fill my CV. I don't need other people's validation over my passion whether it will materially benefit me or not. I only need a passionate soul to once again fill my days.

And I hope I'm still not yet too old to dream for this one.