Potential

For as long as I can remember, I've heard it said of me that I had "potential".

I can't begin to tell you how many evenings I've spent on the shores of Wrightsville Beach, the rocks at Fort Fisher and many other landmarks of solitude for the soul, where I pondered as to what I was supposed to do with that information. Everything felt right.  Restless interests and goals without a road map or mentor, intermingling with the limitless boundaries of my imagination seemingly has left me more of a dreamer, than a success story.

With the loss of my mom at age 15, also was lost the structure I'd come to depend on.  I chose the US Coast Guard to help define my path.  Seemed easy enough.  My Dad had always nudged me into a clerical and administrative mindset, and that was OK.  Having a knack for attention to detail isn't anything to stick your nose up at, and I am grateful for the nudge. Although I do that type of work well, it is stifling when not apart of a creative mix.  My skills are apart of me, but they certainly miss the mark at defining me. Even today, I am finding myself searching for  an opportunity to utilize my skills and actually enjoy it. Without knowing of how else to say it, I "think outside of the box".  Where's the "fit" for folks like me? I am a non-conformist, however, within reason. I do know how my bread is buttered and Mom didn't raise a knucklehead. 

After my Coast Guard contract was up, I married into the Air Force and as fate would have it's way with me a few years later, I gave birth to a US Marine. My job title then became Mom.  I chose for Stephen to be an only child. The mindset of the time was to give him everything I never had and much of what I did that required only matters of the heart, principles of life and a springboard for compassion and selflessness.  Stephen and I are if nothing else, patriotic.  He inherited the restlessness gene and fortunately, the ability to have sound friendships.

52 years has brought me to what some would either define as a dead end, or an opportunity for a new beginning.  I choose the latter, although at times, it feels like the closing in of time. Something interesting happens when menopause enters stage right.  That curious and symptomatic chemical change brings about with it, a right of passage.  Passage into the realm of not giving a shit what others think, wanting to live your life on your own terms as opposed to the chain that has been cuffed around my ankles for decades, as I lived for others instead of myself. Being curious as I am, I find myself asking "Passage into what?".

Exhausted from phase one and two, seeking out phases three and four is now my active mission.

There are core defining attributes I have been able to decipher for myself in the preponderance of it all. 

1.  Curiosity

2.  Creativity and thriving around those who are creative.

3.  Finding humor in every day disasters

4.  Being able to laugh at myself

5.  Enjoying the company of others

6.  Solitude is no longer awkward

7.  Ability to absorb vast quantities of useless information

8.  Ability to retain vast quantities of useful information

9.  Maintain a giving heart

10. Continue to seek out the good in others, especially when they are assholes.

The top 10 attributes listed above so far, hasn't afforded me the "potential" to do a damn thing with them, except spin circles trying to do something with them.

I am appreciative of the technology of the day.  It suits me. It is as complicated, yet simplistic, as I am.  I "get it".  Social Media has certainly stepped meeting others up a notch.  A million years could have come and gone (and has if you are a Darwinist thinker) and everyone but me, would have figured I would have been a blogger by now.

Who the fuck is interested in what I have to say?  Is this my "potential" income driver?  Can being a blogger possibly lead me down the road into the career that really suits me? At least, and in the absence of it becoming an income driver, it will surely save me thousands of dollars in therapy bills.

There's no time like the present to find out, I suppose.  So here we are.  

To quote a fine and decent man,  "My son and I are Americans, we prepare for glory by failing until we don't." - Craig Ferguson

Let's see where this ADD fucker takes us (the blog), and feel free to comment along the way. Welcome aboard the Crack that is Fanny's.  If you have no expectations, you most certainly will not be disappointed.

Cathy

P.S.  I curse.