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the-futureAs another Sunday comes to a close a daunting and yet familiar feeling starts to come over me. I usually don’t think it through this far, but I felt like it was time to resolve it. Usually I just chalk it up to knowing that I have to go back to a 9-5 job for another week, while my heart and passion want to stay free to pour into the things I really want to do with my life.

But it goes a little further than that. It’s the feeling that going back to work means walking in the building, and leaving my dreams at the door. And I know me. Some people might hang up their dreams Sunday night, others leave them next to their bed Monday morning. But for me, I carry mine right to the door. And for me, it’s because I’m so… close.

I shouldn’t feel this way right? I mean, unlike most of my colleagues, not only am I working, but I’m working extremely close to my field and career path of choice. I get to mess with cameras, direct programs, edit projects, and develop graphics every single day. But the longing kicks in when I’m reminded that those more interesting things I have to do are also accompanied by the mundane.

In my own (fake) little world, none of the boring things exist. I’ve either taught someone else to do them, or a computer takes care of it. Because outside of the 9-5, after the “employee” chapter of my life is closed, all I wanna do is dream, and then make it happen.

But this is just impatience speaking, and I know it. Once again unlike most of my colleagues, I’m also very much on pace to exit the 9 to 5 world and do my own thing. I hope to freelance free time, keeping my current employer as a client. But I want to be free to get up and go when I’m ready, make the rules, and make my money. If I didn’t have the kind of job I have now none of this would be possible, which is why I took it, over the jobs that would pay more but require my nights and weekends. In the few years I and my friends have spent in the workplace, I’ve seen what that does to people’s dreams. They get home, no energy, no desire, no fire left in them. They gave the best of their days and hours to someone else, and their dreams never got to benefit from it themselves. I really hope and pray that that’s not where my friends are headed; that they really do have a practical plan for getting back to what they love to do.

There’s nothing more tragic to me than a life unlived. A life in reach to attain, but never realized. But for me right now it’s about loving the ordinary from an extraordinary perspective. I see deeply every day how what I’m doing in and outside of work is preparing me for what is to come, and that excites me. For that, I thank God. I’m not in there dead inside. I’m just preparing to live.