Dream to be Legend

What we do in life is always a trivial thing to ponder. Given the conception of purpose, we’ve always had this primal need to do something. To have something that's ours to do no matter the act or what it entails. To have a profession and claim it with a sense of pride and live off the fruit of our labors. For myself, it took nearly 10 years to understand what I want to do with my life and why it would make sense for me to do it. The journey of self-discovery is always a slow trek towards enlightenment.

To tell you the story of my passion, I must tell you the story of my great pain that would set my life on the path of personal understanding. My father died when I was very young, I was five years old, came from a lower-middle class family, and the first time I felt loss was when couldn’t even comprehend it. As a child, I was left with a path without a key element in my life that offered guidance. My father was someone who was kind, funny, compassionate, and caring. And though some go through life with a living father without those traits, I had one who was taken away. It was something that later on in life I would have to come to terms with but as an individual without purpose, I would need to understand my father to understand myself.

As grew into an older man, my father became a legend to me. Something only spoken about in stories rather than as witness to the account. Having been a listener to the tales of older men, their accounts of a man I didn’t really know became a sense of comfort and understanding. To understand a man I don’t know but share a bond deeper than any I could hope to have was a progressive first step on my journey. Knowing him enlightened me to what he was as a person, his thought process on life was simplistic. He was a content man; he craved a mundane life with a hint eccentricity. The great example of this is when he told my mother he wanted 18 children. When I first heard this, I felt as though my father had far too much ambition. As I grew older, I’ve come to realize that his desires were his own, he wanted a family and too be a father. If that was his sole ambition in life I couldn’t fault him for that, it’s the main reason for my existence. For me though, I’ve found only appetite for some semblance of fulfillment that I knew a family life could not satiate.

As I’d grown into a full adult, my father’s path and mine were too different as far as what we could make out of life. I knew he wanted the simple, quiet model of a family life. As for me I didn’t quite know where my desire would lead until high school came to its minuscule end. Everyone was focused on the direction of where their lives may go, where I was stuck between indecision and indifference. I had no path, no reason, and no passion on my current course to where my future could be slowly built. It wasn’t until a former teacher asked me the second most important question I’d been asked, “What do you want to do with your life?” I found this to be an incredibly morbid question as I took it for him meaning what I want to do with my life until I die. The fear of doing a mundane profession without opportunity or growth shook me to my core. As if I would be stuck in a dead-end, nine-to-five job for the rest of my life until a forced retirement would see me throughout the end of my days. I knew I wanted more, but a path would present itself not long afterwards.

The same teacher told me, “Those who go to trade school know what they want to do, those who have no idea choose to go to college”. Since my lack of direction had given me little option, college seemed right for me as far as a fresh start. College had always been a place of self-discovery and self-examination, who we are will always impact who we may become. So, I learned, I listened, I spoke, and I came to the realization that I had no goals in life. Goals are what we set for ourselves in order to strive for accomplishment. It had been nearly a year since first walking through the halls of my Alma mater and I’d found that goals were a key element in having direction in one’s life.

My professor asked me the question that would change my perspective, “What are your life goals?” As I sat in her office, I was stunned I couldn’t muster an answer. I lingered on the question and realized this wasn’t the same as the other I’d been asked. No, this was far more complex and intricate a question than I’d been asked regarding my livelihood. As I didn’t have a direct answer, she told me to think on it for a weeks’ time and come back if I had a goal then. So, as I took a week to contemplate what goal I’d like to achieve, one sprung to mind on the sixth day. I returned to my professor as she asked, “Well, do you have a goal?”, as I replied, “Yes, I have one. My goal is to find myself on an island, maybe somewhere in the South Pacific, sitting in a lounge chair on the beach. I’m taking in the sun, I have a stiff drink in one hand, a fine cigar in the other, and beautiful woman sitting in my lap. And all I’m doing is enjoying the moment.” Naturally my professor looked at me confused and said, “That’s the easiest goal I’ve ever heard of, you’ll achieve that in a year.” While it might’ve seemed lazy or simplistic, the goal I’d set for myself was something that was my own. The only question I had left to answer was how would I achieve it?

I toiled over what seemed to be a year to find something that brought me ever closer to achieving what I desired. But nothing came of my search, my efforts were aimless and hollow. I fell into a depression giving me a harsher sense of meaninglessness and regret. I’d searched into careers that seemed viable for the most part, but for me, they weren’t enough. I accepted that my own satisfaction may need to be sacrificed for my own future, but to what quality of future? It seemed as though I was stuck beyond my own capability to find a way through this fog of uncertainty. It wasn’t until an unlikely friend invited me to the museum that I rediscovered a forgotten love.

Art was always something I had admired, given the time and discipline one takes in order to create something from nothing. She guided me through the halls where paintings, statues and portraits were all on display for me to absorbed. I was blank canvas observing other canvases. It all seemed like the perfect place to start in finding inspiration as I felt the need to do the very same as the artists did, create. To create is something I believe in, making something from nothing as a piece to inspire others to do the same or something similar. Though I knew I could never truly match the work I gazed upon in that gallery, I know there was more than one form of art in the world. The newest puzzle left to solve was which would I choose?

Believing myself an artist is only self-serving when saying it to someone else at this point. I believe in art but currently do not think of myself as an artist, more as a simple creator. Creating something from your own imagination is a talent very few make into a livelihood, but most have to capability to accomplish. So, I decided to try and create something but what would it be? What could I do that would express such emotion or ideas that could be considered “art” in the eyes of others? I was a man of humble means and little options. Thankful, I am a man of my time and technology had always given my generation an advantage in terms of progression. A computer was the tool but what was product? I was lost again it would seem, until one day the answer had presented itself, writing.

I’d always found writing to be the most sincere form of art as far as what words can do for those who care enough to read them. An idea made reality, a lie made into truth or perhaps a shared point of view between individuals with absolutely no connection with one another. Writing seems to bring people together and arrogantly, I have always thought of myself as a philosopher. Using logic and reason over a shared religion or political stance seemed to be what made me tick as a person. So, I began to write, from day to night, and again through till the following morning I wrote a piece that had a message. It was something small but what I could call my own. A book of ideas cobbled together within a story that had characters seemingly relatable to the readers. A dream made reality for me, but they say there are no failures, merely successful limitations.

Alas, success in discovery of a passion but not in execution. My work would not find an audience large enough or invested enough to garner a career for me. writing two books and a collection of short stories gave me an exercise in expression but no closer to my goal. I felt a failure to myself and became lost again. Again, I worked aimlessly in a dead-end job knowing that there was no future in it. Again, I felt a sea of depression was over me. Day to day, I followed a routine that placed me in a directionless box without opportunity nor fulfillment. This appeared to a lengthy stop on a path of what would be the actual and final answer of what do I want to do with my life.

It was a day the same as any other, I had walked into the store as I always had, I had said hello to my friend who work there as I always did. But today she rushed to me in giddiness of excitement and grasped my attention. The night before we’d discussed fulfillment in other careers besides the ones we’d currently had. We dreamed of what we might do instead of playing the part of drones like mindless sheep. We hoped for something else, something different, something truer. As she rushed me, she proclaimed, “I have it! I know what you could do!” I responded somewhat curious, “What is it?” She told me, “You should be one of those people that makes audio books for Youtube so people like me can listen to them and fall asleep at night.” Naturally, I was confused and stunned by the notion that she felt my voice could put her to sleep. But the thought had me thinking back to several points in my life, all the way back to my childhood where others made claims as striking as hers.

The concept of others pointing out something about yourself that you didn’t realize is something I’d always imagined everyone experienced. A little quark or a subtle skill you may have that was somewhat an unconscious reaction. A little thing we all have that makes us unique and different. Mine happen to be my personality, my voice, and my physical looks that often drew others to make an observation. They all made a point to say, “You should be an actor”, or “You should be in modeling”, or even “You should do voice work”. It was all arbitrary to me, the thought of fame never once enticed me to seek out a way to make a career from one of those paths, but fortune? That made me turn my head towards to the entertainment industry. Especially since I was a child that my comfort of communicating in front of others was second nature. Acting seemed to be not just a logical choice but an inspired one at that. So, I sought out a school that could aide me in this endeavor and as luck would have it, one reached out.

The school had given me a call to offer an opportunity for an audition. A sort of make-or-break method of rooting out those with potential who could enroll in their program. At first I was taken back by the process of elimination from the crying of those who were rejected to those who were far to frighten to stay and find out if they were “good enough”. Personally, I didn’t care for the director making those choices of who could enroll and who wouldn’t. It all seems to point to an idea that some were considered special while others weren’t and somehow that devalued them. I disagree with that line of thinking entirely. But the moment of truth came as I was pulled into a room with twelve other people after the audition. With my heart beating heavily having seen firsthand what rejection looked like, I knew this could either be really good or really bad for me. The director told me that I had been accepted and could come back the next day to set my schedule for the semester. Needless to say, I was relieved if not a little guilt stricken.

I had set my classes and was ready to learn. The art of performing was one I had found to be surprising supportive in other classmates. Others who drive themselves with the same passion as I was oddly sobering. To find others like me that wish to create and better themselves at a craft gave me a sense of conviction that this career course may just be the correct one. I found skills I never knew I had and sharpened those I’d already been using. I studied my fellow classmates as well as my teachers in hopes that I might excel to highest point I could in my class. To become a true thespian is to open yourself to the idea of being someone else. Studying others gave me the same sense of enlightenment I’d gained when visiting the museum. I performed, I challenged, and I honed my craft to the point graduation was upon my fellow classmates and myself. Seven months of learning and gaining experience had seemly paid off. Even being in a few small productions along the way gave me the assurance that I was on the right path. However, as the old saying goes; man plans, and God laughs.

I had graduated with honors and a high sense of achievement for myself, but then the world went mad with panic. The COVID-19 virus hit mere weeks after my graduation and my career plans were put on hold yet again. As the world shook in fear, I found only angry and frustration to be my only companions. My luck had found its end as my career hit a roadblock so big an entire planet couldn’t move it. A race to find the cure was all anyone could talk about, the world kept spinning as I sat in darkness remaining still and unmoved. I questioned what was the point of it all if wasn’t going to bring me closer to that beach? Or fulfillment? Or even a sense of purpose? I felt sick that I’d dug for gold and only found poisoned lead in its place. I was ready to give up, ready to just remain still until the time came to do something monotonous and mundane. Until I watch a specific movie, a movie that to some might not seem special or important but holds a special place in my heart. I watched Planet of the Apes.

It’s a curious choice, I know, but one could ask how a movie could change my perspective on global and personal circumstances? When I was boy, my father recorded the first three Planet of the Apes films on VHS, it was his favorite movie if I recall correctly. But I remember him sitting me down on his lap and watching the original film with him from beginning to end. To this day, it’s one of only five or six actually memories have of my father. And naturally as I got older, I’d forgotten about the experience all together until I was 15 years old. I found a copy of the film and decided to watch it because I thought I’d never seen it and wanted to see if I would enjoy it. One can imagine the amount emotion I felt when I realized just what I was watching and what it made me feel as someone who lost so much. I remembered everything. They say you may never forget what they look like when your loved ones are gone, but I had forgot what my father’s voice sounded like, until watched that film. It was the film that gave me more of my own identity, it was the film I thought of when I decided to go to that audition, and it is the film that strengthened my resolve when the world found itself at the mercy of a germ. I would see it through to the end, I would claim my dream.

So here I am, more than a year later still toiling away for a goal I could’ve had ages ago. I’d often asked myself if I would’ve been happier if I’d just chose the family life over a life that has a higher failure rate than success. Then realize, it wouldn’t have been me, we are who we are in this world and there’s no sense in arguing with yourself about it. The world can accept you or reject you but it’s still your life to live. That’s the obvious truth no one care to point out in this modern age, for all our differences no matter our race, religion, nationally, language, sexuality, gender, or political viewpoint, we’re all born with one. One life to live as we choose because that is the great similarity that we all share. So, I chose to create art as my passion. To perform as an actor and as a writer of such performances for those who care enough to watch. I can’t say if someone, or anyone, should support me in my endeavors, but it would be nice to have some support after a roller coaster of journey I’ve experienced.

My passion is performance, and my performances are my art. It took me ten years to figure out who I am and what I want, one could say I took my time with it. I understand that my father knew what he wanted and he might’ve not understood my chosen path in life, but somehow, I know he would’ve supported me. And make no mistake, the art of film making is still a struggle especially today, but I have hope that tomorrow might bring fortune along my path. And as far as my goal is concerned, it’s changed to a degree. For my father, he is my legend; for myself, I am his legacy. As humble and small town as the rest of the world might have viewed him, it’s not much but it’s worth more to me than any prize I could hope to win. But that’s my new goal in life, to create a legacy than might inspire another who think of me as a legend. Mind you, it’s not arrogance that drives me to be a legend, merely the idea that my work might help someone else discover meaning in their own life. To be a story shared than a witness to, for isn’t that what legends do.