Finding the Courage to Fail

The last few weeks, I’ve been struggling with the question of what in my life is truly “mine” and what is others’ beliefs that I’ve taken on as my own. Since I was a child, I yearned to live a life of creativity, following where words lead me. Yet, as an adult I’ve found myself working in environments where those words are rigid and structured and where I’ve had to be a “communicator” or a “marketer” in order to justify my connection with language and ideas.

Is this the only way? More and more often, I’m finding myself asking whether the highway I’m on is one I actually desire to travel. Do I really believe that the way to happiness is a toll road, paid with stress and anxiety and deposits to a 401(k)? Is it that I haven’t found the right environment? Is it possible to live a creative life, a purpose-filled life and still pay the rent?

I know that magazines and blogs are filled with people who have found their way, forged their own paths through terrain that looks wild and uncharted. I know that many people are inspired by the work they do and the people at their sides. I know all this is possible; but I feel like I have forgotten how to dream, how to recognize what I want.

Is it about taking a leap of faith? Is it about having a family member who can bail you out if you fall flat on your face? To succeed, do you need to risk everything? And what is success, actually? Is it pecuniary? Is it measured in ease or self-satisfaction?

I’m left asking if all of the toil and all of the one-step-forward-two-steps-back dancing I’ve done for decades amounts to anything at all. Does life begin at 65 or 70, when the paychecks stop? And can any of us afford to defer our dreams?

Has anyone else felt this way? What does success look like to you? What does it mean to live a purposeful life?