Ambition Without Dreams

Have you ever wanted to be something? Have you ever thought “if only I could?” Has a career or lifestyle ever seemed so appealing that you felt like you had found your calling? You have? What’s your secret?

Our generation is often told that we can do anything we set our minds to. All we need is to pick a direction and work our hardest. Some would say that this is idealizing and that some will never fulfill their dreams no matter how hard they work. Some have dreams, but lack the drive and work ethic to accomplish them. What about us? What about the people who have developed a work ethic, who believe they can accomplish anything, who are even fortunate enough to have the resources and support to become ANYthing they set their minds to… and, along the way, neglected to develop a dream. We, who have all the ambition in the world, yet remain apathetic towards any ambitions. What do we do?

College? Certainly. Career? Absolutely. Further education? Why not? But what in the world do I do for the rest of my life. Some know from their childhood that they want to be a doctor or a fireman or a dentist. Some learn in college what their real interests are. Some NEVER figure it out and go wherever the wind takes them, ending up in a droll, mediocre living; a means to an end. Some… don’t want that.

I love to learn. I light up when I’m researching interesting historical figures or classic literature or musical genres. I have passion for a lot of subjects; none of which would make a suitable career or that I would want to ruin by MAKING them my career. So what now? Business school? Can’t go wrong their, right? Aside from the fact that most business-related subjects are so boring they make me want to take out a small business loan for a start-up firearm dealership simply so I can blow my brains out. But hey, it’s a means to an end, right? And what end is that? The end of my career? My life? Do I really want to spend the majority of my life in a job that blows so that I can enjoy my few years of retirement before I die?

Bottom line: I want to accomplish something grand--something of worth; something hard, improbable, fun, and completely fulfilling. I don’t care if it’s lofty or if I’ve got my head in the clouds. I like it there, it’s happy up there. Where it’s not happy, is here on Earth; being sensible, responsible, and directionless. HOW DO YOU FIND A DREAM?!?

Why Won't He Call?

I call upon the goddess to aid me in telling the story of a love postponed. A tail of pining and immense attraction that left young lovers spellbound, yet compelled them to patience; in the midst of passion aflamed, any small amount of time may seam an eternity. Madness knocks on the door of the young lover kept from that which is held most dear.

As spring crept through the world, young Aphina—cousin to Aphrodite—galloped through the woods on her noble horse. Her hair darted and tossed as if to dodge the oncoming branches. Her beauty was said to be unmatched in the mortal world and her soul was as clear as an Olympian brook. Her horse slowed and trotted toward a nearby stream. After sliding off and noticing her unfortunate placement; she sat on a nearby rock to wash off her feet. Preoccupied, she failed to notice that she was not alone. Young Pathius had stopped at this enchanting stream to fish for sport. As son to local hero and Olympian Tharacles, much of his time was spent training and hunting in this forest, preparing for the day that he too could make a name for himself. Pathius let out an unintentional gasp, startling Aphina quite suddenly. His gasp was not due to the cold of the stream, nor from some accidently injury, but from cupid’s arrow. He had never seen such a beauty before. Aphina, well aware of his ganderings, quickly jumped up to gallop away. Pathius apologetically called out that he meant no harm and was simply startled by her beauty. As Pathius explained further, Aphina began to sense his sincerity and became flattered at his compliments and polity.

As the day wore on, Aphina and Pathius talked as if they had never met another person in their lives. Everything about them completely fascinated the other. Aphina, used to being gawked and whistled at, was taken in by Pathius interest in her soul. Pathius, on the other hand was completely enamored with the fact that he had found a beautiful young woman that actually had a soul. As night loomed, Aphina realized the hour and jumped atop her (very) patient steed. She was afraid of enraging her cousin Aphrodite (with whom she lodged). Unbeknownst to the young couple, Aphrodite had found and had been observing them privately after wondering what was taking her cousin so long.

As Aphina trotted away, she abruptly turned and yelled out the name and location of her home—much to Pathius’s relief. Aphrodite, being a tad upset for the delay, quickly made him forget this information. Pathius became quite angry with himself at forgetting such precious information, and so quickly; he brooded and tortured himself for hours. Two days went by and he still could not remember the address of the captivating Aphina. In sheer agony of soul, Pathius cried out in supplication to the goddess of love–pleading and begging for his memory to be restored. Aphrodite, surprised at the sincerity of the tortured, young lover and also realizing the harshness of her punishment, decided to restore his memory the next morn.

Ever since this day, men and woman wait at least three days to call after meeting for the first time, in appeasement and sacrifice to the goddess Aphrodite.

One Love

Tonight, I was mistaken for a suicide risk. Now before you jump to conclusions, keep reading (ha, get it, jump to conclusions). Sitting in my apartment, I felt an unexpected wave of depression and hopelessness crash over me. I did what seemed useful: I ran. I ran out the door, down the walk, across the street, and 6 blocks south. I would have kept on running, but my brain had a chance to catch up to my feet and it had to ask “where am I going?” I stopped to gasp for breath. I had, up until this point, been running steadily faster and faster, ending at a thigh-burning life-or-death sprint. Some could say I was running away--away from responsibility, life, or something equally appetising to the field of psychology. Whatever... the faster I ran, the better I felt. As I turned right and walked a couple of blocks, the cold night air also caught up to me. One of my hands plunged into my pocket while the other grabbed my bicep, crossing my body tightly with my other arm. I was still in a stupor and was trying to get a grasp on the hellishly stressful week ahead so my head hung low. Unknowingly, I had become the most pathetic looking, scruff-faced, night-walker that ever graced the streets. As I rounded a corner to walk North, a man came into view standing on his porch. His friend came out of the basement apartment to share a smoke. We all glanced at each other. Shamefully, my first thought was, “I wonder if they’re up to no good.” I coolly turned my head back to the asphalt in front of me. Subconsciously I had positioned myself in the center of the empty road and I'm sure my hovering friend, the street lamp, was throwing a gloomy shadow over my shaggy face. The friends started talking to each other and all I could make out was something to the effect of “…he’s got a look in his eye…”

One spoke up and sayed “hey, you alright bro?”

Maintaining confidence in my tone I responded with a firm “Yeah, I’m fine, just walking stuff off, ya know”

“ok, bro”

“Thanks for asking though”

“Just don’t do anything crazy.”

I replied with a quick “I’m not gonna do anything.” I'm sure they couldn't see it but I couldn't help smirking from amusement.

“You’re worth more than that.”

To which I came back with an equally quick but genuinely grateful “ ‘ppreciate it”

My first thought was not one of shock at the comment; my first thought was how impressive it was that the man actually cared enough to say something. I never see anyone voicing concern for strangers—not even if they feel like there is cause to. I also found it interesting that out of all of the self-proclaimed saints (of the latter-day variety) that I encounter on a daily basis, these two smokers standing on their porch at 1:00 in the morning seemed to show more saintly charity. These guys showed more concern for me in their brief query than any BYU student had done in the past year. Meditating on his words I proceeded to evaluate my own worth (to God, humanity, and to myself), what I could do to have more charity toward my fellow man, how sad it was that I was perceived as somebody on his way to hurt himself… I don’t know what exactly I am to learn from this brief, laconic experience, but I do know that it is significant.