Eye on the Ball

Have you ever made a leap of faith without a net? I have, several times in fact, and I can tell you with absolute authority that it does not get easier with each leap.

This week has been absorbed with job interviews. After weeks of being virtually ignored, suddenly I was being considered for four different jobs. None of them are my ultimate calling and none of them fit into my overall objectives, but each one of them would give a modicum of security and relief, but also a token of approval. Every now and then, no matter what anyone says, a person needs a little validation.

These past five years have really been about doing things without a net. Buying a home, enrolling in a masters program, quitting a secure job, then taking a risk on a company that had the possibiity of failing (and did), being laid off, starting my own little business, and finally applying to PhD programs. These may be just logical steps to most people. To me they are milestones.

Growing up, when my father was angry -- which was much of the time -- he would tell me that I was retarded. No amount of scholastic achievement would really ever convince me otherwise. And because of my size, as an actor I was frequently cast as characters with subpar intelligence.

When I was a boy, maybe five or six years old, I asked my mother if I was handsome. She told me that I wasn't movie-star handsome, but that I wasn't exactly ugly. That sounds pretty harsh, and it's difficult to imagine a mother saying that to her son, but that's how I remember it. Whatever the actual wording, I do remember feeling like I wasn't good enough.

And as a kid, I adored my sister. She was charming and pretty and made friends easily. And she hated me. I never knew why, but I just knew that if I fell off the face of the earth she'd never miss me. And as adults, that has sadly been pretty much proven true.

So, much of my adult life has been about disproving these notions or disspelling the feelings these notions generate. I write this, not in some sort of self-pitying revel, but to help me get a handle on how I want to move through this next period in my life.

One of the jobs that I interviewed for this week could provide a little haven where I could essentially hide from the world. There would be no stress, a comfortable income, and I'm reasonably assured that I would be very successful and much appreciated in the role. It's a situation that could conceivably carry me through to retirement. I could write my stories, and maybe even get published. And by all measures within my family history I would be considered a success.

By all measures, that is, except my own.

Now, I no longer have any doubts about my intelligence. At the very least I'm relatively sure I'm not retarded. And I've long-since past the age where being matinee-idol gorgeous has been an obsession of mine. And I've almost gotten past worrying about what people think of me or what I do. Still, I've started down a path toward something that had always been a goal, and I'm getting cold feet. Tomorrow I'm going to start the applications for the PhD programs and I'm terrified of not being accepted and terrified of failure if I am accepted. I'm not applying to easy programs, and I've never really tested myself on such a scale before.

But, then I realize that these doubts are almost always fed by fatigue and inaction. What I've realized is that to be successful all I need to do is identify the goal and then just put one foot in front of the other until I'm there. If I look up to see how far away the goal is, I'll be lost.

Still, it must be nice from time to time having someone on the sideline, cheering you on.