So the crew of the starship Enterprise are flying around in space, when they come across a floating artifact. As they get closer the artifact activates, sending a beam through the ship that hits Captain Picard and knocks him out cold. While he’s out, he dreams that he’s on a strange planet where he has a family and lives an entire lifetime. He experiences the joys and pains of marriage and fatherhood, raising two children to adulthood and living the married life for almost 30 years. There's a catastrophic disaster that destroys the planet and he wakes up. It turns out that he was only unconscious for an hour. The artifact was placed there by the people on the planet that used to be there, to share the planet’s history so that the civilization’s stories would never be forgotten. Picard is grateful that he’s finally awake, but later wonders what life would have been like had he chose to have a family rather than be the career Starfleet officer that he is.
During March's BMS (Brooklyn Mike's Shangri-La), we bumped into an old high school acquaintance, Rob. I tried to get Brooklyn Mike to end the conversation early to no avail. Rob asked me what I’ve been up to and I told him that I was in real estate. He then reminded me that when we were in high school, I told him I wanted to be… I’m going to keep that private. I’ve never talked about it before and I won’t feel comfortable talking about it now, even on this blog. Anyway, after our conversation, I started wondering on my own… like Captain Picard did. I know what my potential is. I know what I can do and what I should be doing. And I don’t think about it until some dickhead comes out of nowhere and brings those thoughts to the forefront. So here I am…
I… hmmm. Ever came across something or someone that serves as a reminder of what you could have done… what you should have become? Like you know you were born to do something, see someone doing it, and go "Shit man, I was supposed to do that! And I would have done it so much better!" That’s what meeting Rob did for me. It was like putting up a mirror and showing how little I am compared to what I could have been. I mean… greatness. Real greatness. The thoughts rolled through my head of what I could be doing at that moment, the things I would say or do, and the amount of people I would have helped. Fuck teaching. Fuck real estate or stocks. I could have been so much more than that. So, what now?
The truth is I’m not all that tempted to be what I could have been. All my potential is tied into my limitations, and I can no longer be that person. I don’t care about people. The thought of helping someone without getting anything in return feels like a completely waste of time and an unnecessary headache. I’m not that guy anymore. The world did a very good job of taking that part of me and setting it on fire, and then putting the fire out with a baseball bat. I know that makes me look and feel weak but it’s the truth. I guess I have to admit that I'm... I'm a coward. Not because I'm afraid to fail or because I'm afraid to put in the work... I'm a coward because I let these people beat me down to the point that I refuse to be what I should have been-- what I'm naturally born to do.
Some days I look out the window like Picard did. And also, like Picard, I don’t look out with regret or pain. What I am is what I am. But sometimes it’s okay to stare out the window and just wonder.
P.S.: I know this post was uncharacteristically vague. Trust me, I wasn’t going for suspense or mystery. I just… I meant what I said... that writing the truth made me feel weak. It'll be a pain in the ass reading that I'm a coward over and over again, but reading the details about what I could have been would be a bit much in this case. After all, there's a reason why The Inner Light is my favorite Star Trek TNG episode, yet I could only watch it once.
During March's BMS (Brooklyn Mike's Shangri-La), we bumped into an old high school acquaintance, Rob. I tried to get Brooklyn Mike to end the conversation early to no avail. Rob asked me what I’ve been up to and I told him that I was in real estate. He then reminded me that when we were in high school, I told him I wanted to be… I’m going to keep that private. I’ve never talked about it before and I won’t feel comfortable talking about it now, even on this blog. Anyway, after our conversation, I started wondering on my own… like Captain Picard did. I know what my potential is. I know what I can do and what I should be doing. And I don’t think about it until some dickhead comes out of nowhere and brings those thoughts to the forefront. So here I am…
I… hmmm. Ever came across something or someone that serves as a reminder of what you could have done… what you should have become? Like you know you were born to do something, see someone doing it, and go "Shit man, I was supposed to do that! And I would have done it so much better!" That’s what meeting Rob did for me. It was like putting up a mirror and showing how little I am compared to what I could have been. I mean… greatness. Real greatness. The thoughts rolled through my head of what I could be doing at that moment, the things I would say or do, and the amount of people I would have helped. Fuck teaching. Fuck real estate or stocks. I could have been so much more than that. So, what now?
The truth is I’m not all that tempted to be what I could have been. All my potential is tied into my limitations, and I can no longer be that person. I don’t care about people. The thought of helping someone without getting anything in return feels like a completely waste of time and an unnecessary headache. I’m not that guy anymore. The world did a very good job of taking that part of me and setting it on fire, and then putting the fire out with a baseball bat. I know that makes me look and feel weak but it’s the truth. I guess I have to admit that I'm... I'm a coward. Not because I'm afraid to fail or because I'm afraid to put in the work... I'm a coward because I let these people beat me down to the point that I refuse to be what I should have been-- what I'm naturally born to do.
Some days I look out the window like Picard did. And also, like Picard, I don’t look out with regret or pain. What I am is what I am. But sometimes it’s okay to stare out the window and just wonder.
P.S.: I know this post was uncharacteristically vague. Trust me, I wasn’t going for suspense or mystery. I just… I meant what I said... that writing the truth made me feel weak. It'll be a pain in the ass reading that I'm a coward over and over again, but reading the details about what I could have been would be a bit much in this case. After all, there's a reason why The Inner Light is my favorite Star Trek TNG episode, yet I could only watch it once.
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