My Dream, My Gift

So I watched this video that talked about interviews of a bunch of elderly folks in the hospital, basically on their deathbed and what they thought as they reflected on their lives. And the majority said they don’t regret what they did. They regret what they didn’t do. The video goes on to talk about pouring yourself into your gift or dream and give that back to the world. Life is not about working 9 to 5 to pay the bills.

Needless to say, it gave me pause.

Serious pause.

What is my gift?

I haven’t thought about my dreams since I was a young adult. My dream then was to become a dance teacher and someday open my own studio. As a dancer, I was okay. I loved to dance, but I was never trained formally. But the idea of teaching children to dance thrilled me. I think I’ve touched on this previously, but essentially that dream went up in flames when my Dad put the fear of God in me saying I could never survive and support myself doing that.

Well, I’m actually over that. I’ve had an amazing career in healthcare marketing. I really liked the marketing discipline a lot, especially when CRM came into the picture, and I could then prove my marketing efforts were worth it with ROI reporting on my campaigns.

Now I feel that I’m at a different point in my life. I don’t have this strong desire to earn more and move up the latter. I hit Director. I have made more money than I every dreamed I would. And guess what? I’m not any happier. Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

I figured it out.

It’s not about the money. Although, it needed to be for awhile. Especially when I was the sole supporter of my kids and self. That was way more critical at that time.

Now, more than ever, it’s about fulfilling myself and nurturing myself. The stress of my job in marketing right now has caused some significant issues for me. Fibromyalgia does not respond well to stress. In fact, it flares up. My ghost affliction. Plus, I have become foggy brained and can’t seem to handle stress the way I used to. I could take stress in great stride, at a time. Now, I tend to panic and freak out. As my husband says, I become a different person.

So, that video crossed my feed and it got me.

Now I just need to figure out what my gift is. I enjoy writing and blogging. I’m no expert on ┬áit, by any means. But I feel better when I write. So, I guess there’s that.

I don’t claim to know much about proper grammar. I’m certain that I butcher proper grammar in all my posts.

Maybe writing is my gift? It makes me feel good, but I have no idea what other people think. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. I suppose if I want to pursue writing or becoming an author, I should research that. Actually, I’m intrigued by the idea. My oldest sister is an author and has been writing for many years. She was a Journalism major and has gone to many writing retreats and spends hours a day writing.

I think my biggest fear is finding out I’m not good enough. But,hell… I’ll never know until I try, right?

What the hell do I have to loose? Nothing. I will have tried something and if I fail, I try again. That is, if I love it.

A gift can be tied to a dream. I can see how a dream could be forming for me.

Time for some research!