Career, Personal

The Leap

From an interview with Elle Luna featured on The Great Discontent .

I think that once you quit the job that’s paying the bills, the entire universe comes out to meet you. But it’s only after you quit your job that those people arrive, and that’s the secret that nobody knows. When you’ve made the leap and you’re far from shore, nothing is guaranteed, but we do it together and that’s what makes it worth it.

Read the rest here. There’s a very interesting bit about her applying to nine law schools and getting rejected by all of them. Then she applied to two art schools. When she was accepted to both, she took that as a sign. (Kinda reminds me of my seven failed bar attempts.)

On the beach in Montezuma, I met a guy from Kentucky. I don’t even know how work came up. He was ex-military, had his house in Lexington on the market, and was just hanging out in Costa Rica until it sold. He said that he  and his friend were moving to Los Angeles to work as screenwriters. I told him what I do. And he said, “You should quit your job.” My friend said, “I keep telling her. She won’t listen.”

If only it were that simple. But I can’t shake the idea that I am not the kind of person for whom a safety net will magically appear. That I will leap and land head-first on the concrete below.

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Career, Goals

The Hard Questions

Sometimes Buzzfeed is good for something other than amusing (and sometimes bemusing) lists or ingeniously-curated gifs.

From a piece on former tennis pro athlete, James Blake:

His career just never seemed to click into place the way the instructions that came with the package said it was supposed to. And it did really seem like Blake was supposed to have an epic career, given his story. He was born in Yonkers, outside New York City, and as a kid played at — and heard Arthur Ashe speak to — a Harlem junior tennis program that his parents worked with. That’s an auspicious start for a black American tennis player… But despite putting together the best streak of his career in 2006, he never threatened to win a major. Just when it seemed like everything was coming together, something would come apart. You may know the feeling.

The press conference was a heavy thing — a guy seeing a three-decade life project come to a end in a largely empty stadium after midnight. There was a lot to think about: fans coming to terms with an unsatisfying end to Blake’s career, Blake coming to terms with an unsatisfying end to his own career, and (perhaps, if you’re in the mood to brood) fans thinking about the similarities between his life and their own. Thanks for speaking to us, James. Can you tell us what you feel like right now? Can you describe what it’s like to know conclusively that you will never have the thing you wanted most? Can you talk about your forehand, your serve, and the way that every day your life’s possibilities get incrementally narrower? How did your legs feel in the fifth set, and don’t almost all of us have to admit eventually that we aren’t going to be the ones who get lucky?

Read the rest  here.

I’ve been thinking about this article non-stop since I first read it yesterday afternoon.

It’s an uncomfortable thing to consider. We all want to be successful and happy, healthy and loved.

But what happens if, despite your hard work, you never quite reach your potential?

What if you never get what you want?

If you’re James Blake, you acknowledge the career highs. You accept your uncertain future with gracious, open arms.

Maybe one day I’ll learn.

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