Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the goals I always wanted to acomplish. As I enter the realm of public speaking and tell random strangers, or anyone willing to listen, about my life as this nerdy legally blind blogger, it gives me a great feeling to know that I can look back and say I made some sort of impact in the world.
But often, I wish I can do more.
Although I’m living the crazy dream of living in Florida and planning vacations for the Florida theme parks, I feel like it’s not enough. I don’t see myself as management material given my anxiety, nor do I see myself being a trainer, because I have come to learn that I am a slow ass learner at my new job. Odd, considering I caught on things easily at Disney. Maybe I have gone brain dead since then?
I miss the days where I had some sort of impact, whether it was from working with the special needs kids in the homeroom classes in junior high, or my adult years as a parapro for at risk youth. I felt a sense of honor knowing that for every bad day with a kid brought at least one “ah ha” moment that proved to me I was doing my job right, even though some teachers disagreed with it. I treated my kids with dignity not a diagnosis. Same as I treated my relationship with Bill. I felt I made an impact just by being myself. Just how big of an impact, well, that’s left to be determined.
I have a million and one ideas of what I want to acomplish. I want to land a TED Talk gig, build an art program for the disabled, start my own self advocacy group, find a way to bring my talents, whatever they may be, to the world. I want to make a difference, but I also need to pay the bills and keep a roof over my head. Damn adulting.