Guest post by Rebecca Hunter.
As I’m writing this, I can barely see outside my bedroom window for the fog that’s descending. It sounds totally cliché, but the weather couldn’t be more apt. I feel as if I’ve been squinting through metaphorical fog for a while, holding out hope for any inkling of light, plugging away in the pursuit of purpose.
I’m 25, and I’d say the majority of my adult life has been spent in some state of confusion. I left school with no idea what I wanted to do. (Isn’t it insane that 16-year-olds are expected to have their lives mapped out, when they’re still figuring out who they are?) I had wistful, childhood dreams, but also dire self-belief. The thing I dared to dream of most was writing, but I never believed I could get away with making it my life’s work.
I remember going to a university open day and sitting through a lecture about their journalism degree. The speakers kept emphasising, very decidedly, how cut-throat and competitive the industry is. Basically, only the best would make it. So, being the meekling that I was, I didn’t even bother applying. Instead, I fumbled around for a few years, enrolled in an English degree and then dropped out, tried on a couple of office gigs for size, and at one point found myself incomprehensibly in a counsellor’s office, crying brazen tears and ruminating on the meaning of this thing we call life.
It was probably then that I realised that I wanted more from life. That there had to be more! The status quo simply wasn’t cutting it, but I was at a loss as to where to go instead. So I settled. On teaching, actually (a ‘proper’ job). I mean, I love kids, so why wouldn’t teaching be a fantastic choice? It became apparent very quickly that loving kids and teaching them are two very different things, but that’s a lesson for another time. To cut a long story short, I spent two years as a teacher before I quit my cushy job back in July.
I had big plans to start something, anything (!), when I left my job. But four months have passed (wow, has it really been that long?), and still nothing. I kid myself into thinking I’m doing worthwhile ‘research’, when in actual fact it feels like nothing more than procrastination. I’m still grappling with life, going back and forth and up and down between biz ideas and project plans that might help me wake up excited every morning.
That old writing dream is refusing to quit, but I’ve still got the word ‘unrealistic’ tattooed onto my mind’s eye. I know all about following your dreams, doing what you love and telling ‘realism’ to shove it, but doing something is far from the same thing as knowing about it. A wise friend once said to me that transformation comes in three stages. The three A’s, if you will. First there’s awareness, next comes acceptance, and then there’s action. Four months into my own lifestyle transformation (or much longer, if you want to get philosophical about it), I find myself hovering firmly yet restlessly in the corridor of acceptance, waiting for some unknown entity, carrying a clipboard and looking official, to shout “Action” and grant me permission to enter the stage.
So how do I make the leap? How do I figure out exactly where to go from here? How do I start daring to do, rather than simply daring to dream?
It all started with shutting down. My laptop and I have been bosom buddies over the past few months. It’s my portal to a new and shiny land where kindred spirits have got me sussed and any crazy dream can be brought to life. Or so I thought. The truth of the matter is that it’s really tough to find out what’s important to you when there are countless self-styled leaders shouting at you from all angles, showcasing their own wonderful ways of making it in this brave new world. Inspiration is priceless, but overwhelm is inevitable. So take an afternoon, a day, heck, even a whole week, and step away. Step away from the teachings of everyone else, no matter how wise or well-meaning they might be. Start listening to yourself.
Since I quit my job, I’ve been chasing the wrong dreams, looking at whatever the ‘in’ thing happens to be and convincing myself that I need to do it too. No matter how many stomach butterflies the idea of writing gives me or how many tears I’ve shed over the tug I feel inside, that fog’s had me shrouded in uncertainty and it’s kept me stuck. But now I see that it’s only when you shut down and take time out, to play around and wile away the hours, that you can ever get clear on what your next step should be. There’s simply no substitute for treading on solid ground, inhaling fresh air, and revelling in real-life adventures. Whatever makes you smile and lose track of time, go do it. And see what comes up.
The world doesn’t necessarily need another coach, speaker or guru. I see that now. What it needs is another someone to do what truly gives them the shivers. It needs someone to do the seemingly impossible and chase down their dreams until they catch them and live them. What dreams are you chasing?
 
Rebecca Hunter is a twentysomething self-proclaimed misfit who giggles a lot and wears her heart on her sleeve (sometimes a little too distinctly). She believes in the power of words and the power of people, and also that life is way too short to make excuses or frown. You can keep up with her misadventures on Twitter. Do say hello!