Only Connected By Memory

It is incredible how daunting change can be to us as we move through life. I just started taking classes for my Master's Degree. I am excited. I am grateful. But, most of all, I am scared. Why am I so afraid?

As a child, I excelled in most elementary and high school classes. I leveraged a perfect memory to prepare for tests. I have always had an excellent imagination, which I routinely use in writing or my job. I felt invincible. I continued this trajectory into college and did well in my first few years at the University I attended. Then, I hit my upper-level classes and found a new experience. I took a course in organic chemistry. I failed. Then, I retook it, and I failed again. I could not overcome this subject despite my past success in other classes.

I continued to decline from that point in my academic career for a while. I lost my confidence. I would give up if things got too challenging, and I would make up excuses to protect my bashed ego. "The teacher is just too hard." "He is just against me." "It is not a good class." The underlying problem was never addressed. I had created a memory of extreme failure, which replaced the memory of my past successes. I began only to remember the loss.

I changed my goals in school. Initially, I wanted to be a medical doctor. That became unattainable from my viewpoint. I settled and lowered my expectations. I took the most direct route to graduate from college. I got a degree in Psychology. There is nothing wrong with a degree in Psychology, but I decided to avoid the challenge and complete something I thought had no chance of failure.

I became tired of education. I thought that it was a waste of my time. I only remembered the sting of the loss of a dream. I felt that I only saw failure in myself. So I hid from the world. I hid in a spot in a dead-end job that required no effort. I had fallen into a mental pit and became comfortable with the darkened walls of my prison of fear and self-contempt. My life only involved staring at the imagined walls of despair. I no longer saw hope for a career and imagined only static and unchanging loneliness and emptiness.

Then, conflict found me. My job had an element of danger that was inescapable. I was working as an inpatient counselor in a mental health facility. Sometimes, my clients would become violent. Part of my job was to aid in stopping patients that were out of control with physical restraint. I saw a co-worker get injured during a shift. I was afraid. My memory reminded me of my past failures, and I began to speak of potential doom from this vocation threat.

A battle began in my mind. Two competing feelings gripped my will-the fear of injury and failure. I found an inner push to find a way to avoid damage. I sought a martial arts teacher and began training to protect myself.

I had never been very athletic as a young person. I was not good at sports. I was not physically impressive. I joined a dojo. I felt so out of place. My memory kept telling me this endeavor would only repeat in a loss. I decided to keep trying from class to class and week to week. My goal was to just come to one more class. One week turned into a month. I was losing every match with a fellow student. I felt slow in how quickly I learned concepts. I heard the voice of my memory say that my ability to learn was gone. But, I kept showing up to class.

Time progressed onward. I started to see some improvements. I started to see my body change. Concepts in martial arts became less abstract. I even started to win some of my sparring interactions. I saw success. My memory told me it was just an outlier. But, the outlier of success started to form a new memory.

I kept at it. I started to advance in rank. I started to win my sparring matches almost all of the time. I began to help other students. I got compliments and requests for more help. I heard a new memory more loudly than the old memory of failure. I also became interested in a new career path in Physical therapy.

Before I knew it, I had received my black belt in my martial arts school and became an instructor to aid students in the dojo. I also enrolled in a program to become a Physical Therapist Assistant. I eventually graduated and started to practice as a Physical Therapist Assistant (PTA). I saw success in both my personal and professional life.

Moving forward, I still heard the old voice of failure sparingly with struggle, but I listened to the agent the preached about the current successes. So, I progressed into teaching after 13 years of success as a PTA. And here I am, taking my Master's Degree classes.

A couple of months ago, I started the first course in my Master's Degree coursework, and I initially saw a hurdle and experienced failure. I heard that old voice creep back, warning of a looming loss. But, I drew upon the memory of my past success. I chose to believe in success.

I pushed forward and am happy to report that I am doing well. I will be successful. The class is going well. I am successful.

I have learned that our only connection to our best or worst version of ourselves is our memory. What you think about yourself is who you are in life. Remember, listen for that voice of success. If you want to be something different, every day is a new opportunity to be that new version of yourself. I wish you all the best of success.

Thanks,

The M.A.D. Dad