How many people go through life waiting for something extraordinary to happen to them, that would give them the opportunity to be great? I feel like the books I read as a child gave me this expectation of greatness, but as I've grown and matured to adulthood, the trait that still ties me to childhood is this wait to make a difference- whether it be large or small. The child in me tells me anyone may accomplish this, yet the adult, with my realistic assessment of myself and the events that change the world, knows this is only the wish (or fear) of a child. (I have no misconceptions that heroism is easy, or painless, or guaranteed success.)
I pass the time now, blinding myself to this shortcoming of mine- that I anxiously await that which won't come. That I feel incomplete without it. Everything I do helps me distract myself- some of which i see merit in, like school, some which I don't, like earning money (for what purpose? to be rich? pay a debt to society?) But there are moments when I think of what I'm doing, or should be doing, or will be doing with my life, when the glimmer of something else creeps in. It leaves me disquieted for some time afterwards, seeking further distraction, and frequently makes me remember that I feel ill prepared for my purpose. My conscious mind quickly squelches such silly formless fantasies and I remind myself that there are stages I must take in life, and while the future is nearly entirely fluid, right now I have to concentrate on finishing school and planning for a career. And so the unsettled part of my mind returns to its fitful sleep, for a time.