Beware the angst of youth.
When you have no other way to voice yourself, then you have no other language beside your actions. And you try. You try to fit. You go along to get along but the frustration in your heart makes it impossible to play along.
Know what I mean?
Next, you find yourself in compromising positions, doing things you know you’re not supposed, which is fine, until you’re caught —until you’re cornered by someone, maybe it’s a teacher, maybe a principal, maybe it’s a cop or your parents, and then they ask you the most commonly asked question.
They ask you “Why?” to whom you answer, “I don’t know,” of course because there is honestly a part of you that doesn’t know why you do what you do. You’re not even sure why you say what you say. You just do it. But deep down, you know there’s a reason. You know there’s something in there but it doesn’t have a name or a face or anything you can describe.
I was ready to quit after my first class. I couldn’t help it. All I could do was look around the room and listen to the others introduce themselves. Everyone in the meeting room had letters after their name. They had titles and credentials. They had professional history, and worse, they all knew each other.
They were all players in the mental health field. They were all on a first name basis, and then there was me, passed the midway of my 40’s with a limited education and wondering if I could make a go of a new direction in life.
I sat in a classroom for 8-hours, learning about mental health with the main premise, based on a few different acronyms. One idea above all stood out to me. They called it the four L’s.
Two instructors alternated, subject by subject, which I thought was brilliant because their upbeat energy was enough to keep the classroom alive. They complimented each other very well and kept the information interesting, which is good because an 8-hour class is a long class to be in. All the while, both instructors stressed the four L’s, which are Live, Love, Laugh, and Learn.
I was walking down a long hallway after turning passed the corner near the principal’s office. I was making my way to a classroom with a few teachers and some counselors that helped me navigate through the halls.
They were taking me to to a class where a roomful of seniors were waiting to hear what I had to say. This was part of a police initiative that was created with the intention to teach students what drugs do. This was to keep the student’s clear of the drug life.
I have to admit it. I was scared. I was afraid of what they would think of me and how I would sound. I was afraid I would be a flop.
Then it would be exactly the way it was when I was in school, uncomfortable and awkward, with me being the brunt of someone’s joke.
Life is nothing more than a series of lessons, which means we learn along the way. We learn from birth, all the way up until the day when we pass.
We learn about life. We learn about the basic things and the obvious things. We learn about the birds and the bees.
We learn about love and we are taught what love is supposed to be, what love is supposed to look like, about beauty, how to love beautiful things, and as well; we are taught what beauty is and what beauty isn’t.
Ever find yourself on the bad end of a decision?
Of course you have. Everybody has. Everyone has made a mistake at one point or another. Unfortunately, sometimes, some of our mistakes are costly. Some of our mistakes can be painful. Some of our mistakes will hurt other people and sometimes, our mistakes damage friendships or result in the separation of important relationships.
Imagine what it would mean to be free. Imagine what it would be like to be free of worry and free of irrational fear.
Imagine if there was no such thing as self-doubt. Imagine if our happiness was not hinged upon the ideas of “If.” or “When,” and instead of depending upon the outcomes of our daily living, regardless to whatever happens to us; imagine a life free of the dependencies upon people, places, or things.