What about the possibilities?

What about them? How many do you have? Do you have them in a folder or a planner? Maybe tacked up on a cork board? Or maybe just floating by in your imagination? Passing by your dream palace in a blacked out limo. Slowly moving in front of your waving hand as a reminder of what could be. As you then watch it continue on without you. What is it keeping you there? Is it money? Is it fear? Is it even a real possibility you have that one can attain?

For the longest time throughout my life I have experienced such a repetitive taunt. Having wishes and dreams of what if. Not really caring if they ever came true. Just reveling in the hollow truth that I would never be the one in that limo. The limo being a metaphor of course. Bringing class status in as an interpretation kinda makes it simpler to get the point across.

What possibilities does anyone have really? Circumstance for the most part generally dictates how the majority cast their lot. Like a craps table for the ones that actually take a risk and do something about it. So is that what it comes down to? Risk? What one is willing to risk; to make a possibility a reality? Does it have to be all risk? Could there be more to it than this loosie-goosie train of thought?

What I do know is that watching and waiting for something to fall into your lap can be a little uplifting. It can give you hope. However, depending on what it is and how long this waiting actually lasts. Those possibilities can tend to transform into unreachable goals.

I used to wanna be a comic book artist. Then it evolved into a wanting to be a writer that created graphic novels. My possibilities of being these things never came to be. Primarily because I never thought I was good enough. I never realized then, that the risks I was thinking about, really didn’t apply to me as a kid. Not to mention that the ones shaping my future thought such possibilities were sub par. This was a mind set I was conditioned into believing. And what’s worst. It carried over into almost everything I set out to do. Going to school to learn to be an architect, a theatrical set designer, a stage actor, a chef, a private investigation case examiner, a graphic designer… the list continues on and on. I did every blood-spit one of those things I learned about in school and from books.

It wasn’t until I actually took a step back and saw the pattern I was weaving. I was replacing my desires; my possibilities, with fake ones. Things I chose to do, that I truly did not want to do in my heart.

Why was I waisting my time and making myself miserable trying to do crap I had no desire or love in doing? I seriously asked myself what I was getting out of any of these things. I didn’t care about the money. Not really. Having it to buy stuff that ended up gathering dust didn’t make me happy. It just ended up stressing me out. What did I really want? I had done plenty of things at this point and still didn’t feel like I was doing anything that had any meaning for me. None of the teachings that I was told “I had to do” as a kid, “to be happy as an adult” made me happy. It was a big load of Dino-$#!+. Well, most of it was.

So what did I do?

Well, after a year long temper tantrum about feeling sorry for myself. I stripped off that worthless frame of mind clothing and started to make my “real possibilities” my reality. Granted, I am currently not a comic book artist that writes and creates graphic novels. Not one YET. I am however stepping toward it. One foot in front of the other. Stepping down off that dreamland front porch and making my way to that parked limo. Yeah. There are risks. And they are the kind of risks that are glorious and worth taking. They are worth it because my possibilities are leagues more valuable.

You know there is a gambler saying that pretty much sums up this whole train of thought. “Don’t put up what you are not willing to loose.” From my perspective, that just means, don’t be an idiot. I’m not betting the farm on my possibilities. I still need food, water, and a roof over my head. I’m just taking the road less traveled. My road. If I am gonna be honest. It’s more like walking through a bunch of weird bushes while wildly waving around a machete. It’s awesome, scary, and f’ing fun.

I feel like a Kenny Rodgers song lyric would rest nicely right about here…

However…

There is another saying I am going to go with instead. “Always bet on black.” I don’t know how that even applies. But it does sound bad ass. Yeah.

Always bet on black.