I’m lately trying to get better at what I do… by simply paying attention and reading as much as I can in order to actually form good premises for know how… then the actual, professional, european standard know how will follow.
So, yes, I’ve read Martha Stewart, just the copy that you could buy along with Saptamana Financiara, Martha’s 10 rules. The book is by no means illuminating when it comes to personal improvement or radical behavioral changes. However, if your eyes are open and your mind ready to accept it, there’s definitely something to learn from it’s general attitude. Yes, it’s very, VERY american, which isn’t exactly a plus. Still, it has that… ” I went out and did this and that and look at that… it worked out. Sure, I was smart and passionate, but I could have failed”… and the next few words to that would be “… just like you.”
See… it’s not that we fail, but that we accept that we are and we resume to being… failures. Never trying to do something bigger and better than your present self… that’s failing. It’s failing all the way. Accepting what you’re doing so far and not wanting to do more… again… utter failure. It doesn’t have to be professional, or even spiritual. Hell, it can be sexual, geographical, it just means not being still in all manners.
If you’re in your twenties and your biggest dream is to buy a house… you’re failure. If you’re in school and your only hope is to do good… you’re a failure. Self-satisfaction inside mediocrity is simple the most popular and shameful form of failure. And the saddest part is, it comes in all shapes and sizes. I know well cultured people having succumbed to the same virus, and I hear about more and more of them every day.
You may not be Shakespeare, but write… something. Not Armstrong, but step somewhere new, sing something beautiful.
See, there’s a sort of battle between our potential of being excellent and our nearly inborn decision of giving up. It’s not about being excellent at something in particular, just about being excellent. Don’t be yourself, be yourself at your best. You’ll find out it’s not even tiresome. It’s not. Hell, do that for a few days you’ll like yourself so much you’ll never want to go back. The the ego might intervene and stop you again.
The ridiculous thing is the only people that this sounds like bullshit to are those not even willing to try.
And the reason I write it, cause I was asked how the hell I feel entitled, is that I’ve simply had enough of jaded people, of already half-menopaused women in their twenties, drama queens and spoiled brats.
Because on the other hand there can be people like the ones that helped with me writing this from my day-old MacBook. People that do, want and can achieve.
And the panda that keeps me going.