In the past few months, while on my
daily commuting and travel on the rail systems of Philadelphia, I've come across
two men who needed help in direction. I don't say that in a preaching type
sense, I mean they literally needed help in direction as neither of them had
the sense of sight. Helping both them out in the cut throat traffic panned out
to be really simple. Just a hand on the arm and a direction, "Door three
feet to your right," or "The stairs are twenty feet to your slight
left." The younger man of the two was on the same route as me, so I got to
spend a few minutes with him from Race & Vine up to Cecil B. Moore. To
shorten the story, I was left to my own meandering thoughts for a few minutes
after wondering if my choice in major, and ultimately line of work, was truly
of any value. What value is there if everyone can't appreciate it?...... And
then I found the story of the blind photographer.
This story of Amy Hildebrand was truly inspiring. It's almost biblical. "I
was blind, and now I can see....", although this take is a little more,
"I was blind, and modern surgery has totally flipped my world." Amy
gained something new, something earth-shattering, something spectacular,
something that is entirely impossible to ignore, and fell into a passionate
love affair with this amazing gift she very likely could not contemplate prior.
After basically moving through the world with a perspective much akin to always
looking through tracing paper for years and years prior, photography would seem
to be the perfect thing to get into.
Still, even after reading this
article, the same thought lingered in the back of my head for quite some time.
"What exactly is the worth of this line of work? Why do I sometimes feel
like I don't deserve to be a part of this awesome thing?" Instantly you
can see the paradox in this kind of thinking. One second I am questioning the
worth of the entirety of the field, and then the next, bam, the field of work
itself becomes awesome and I don't feel that I am worthy of it. This sort of
thinking only leads to a downward spiraling effect, and ultimately creates self
defeating thought processes.
Luckily, this was months ago, and
still this mind set has perished, although not without constant self assurance.
I've learned that I doubted the line of work, because I doubted myself. I did
not see my self worth, so, really, all of this questioning defaults to the
second question: Why do I sometimes feel like I don't deserve to be a part of
this awesome thing?
In more recent history I've
finally come back to a realization that I know I can always give the time and effort to myself to contemplate in this world of "GO, GO , GO!" Nowadays I get to look through the answers I have been sending myself, but in my own little time-capsule type style.
Throughout the past four years I've
been acquiring books, but never seemed to have the time to read any of them between
school, my significant other, and whatever job I happened to be in at the time.
Although, more likely than anything I was chickening out, and felt that work
and school was an adequate excuse to not look too closely at myself. "Beware of
the looking glass," would ring daily. I've finally been reading these books, and what I noticed
was that they all reflected exactly what I was placing myself as blind to this
whole time. Books on meditation, the creative process, business and legal
forms, and, ultimately, a message between all telling me that my self
confidence was not where it ought to be, and I did deserve what I was working
toward. If you have a dream, don't turn a blind eye toward what is sitting
right in front of you. To think you're unworthy is to play the part of the
fool. The instructions are infinitely simple: See it, pursue it, learn it, grab
it, and conquer it. You're the only one who can trip you up. Acceptance is the
hardest part.
From now on, I'll be working
through the motions with eyes wide open, and the occasional helping hand.
