Thriving on Adventure...or Insecurity?

I've always been a man of activity. Not necessarily action (I know full well my indecisiveness at times, I'm working on it), but definitely activity. I feel like, I also thrive on adventure, being in a place where I can discover new things daily, where there are routines, but not the dreaded feeling of "it's the same thing everyday."

Perhaps this is a severe weakness. After all, no matter where I live, inevitably the place will become familiar enough and everything will become mundane. Maybe I need to learn to appreciate more the things of "the same thing everyday."

I write this because soon, three organizations will soon tell me whether they believe I'm of caliber to be enrolled into their school. Well, I think it's soon. Sometimes you can never be sure. Nonetheless, my mind--to a mild degree--is aching to know my status. I want to know not so much because I really want to get in, but honestly, more so because I want to know what I might be doing after this China-stage of my life is over.

Don't take this as a "I can't wait to get out of here" feeling--though at times I feel that way. It's more of a, "5 more months really isn't that long of a time. What's next?"

What is next? It's a question that always bothers me. I'm slightly farsighted, which is something I always wondered if perhaps that affected my ability to think as well. I'm very good at looking at the long road ahead, and not very good at focusing on the things in front of me. This of course, means that when something does come up right in front of my face, I'm blindsided and confused and at a complete loss. No worries, I'm working on this too.

If I get into graduate school, I'm pretty sure I'll go. It'll be scary, but what job isn't? Every so often my desire to write dies (especially now given my lack of energy due to teaching), but when it comes back, my mind goes crazy, and usually when I hear/read/see a great story. I hope this doesn't mean I just like to copy and paste. Nonetheless, stories fascinate me more than anything, and I would love to tell one, especially through the medium of a film script one day. This route would definitely be an adventure, though one no doubt filled with restless nights, sweaty evenings, exhaustion, stress, pressure, fear, and constant self-doubt.

Should no school accept me, and even on the slight chance that one does, I've been entertaining the idea of finding a job in the oh so lovely Hong Kong. Hong Kong has become something of another home to me, and I find the prospect of living in Hong Kong again to be quite exciting. After all, Hong Kong has yet to become so familiar that there aren't new things to discover or find. This also provides me with the chance to try other careers, such as the personally hated finance sector (who knows, I may like it), social work, or other areas I may not have considered. It's also...risky. After all, like I said, Hong Kong isn't actually my home.

I realize both of these options are filled with risk, fear, misgivings, but lots of excitement as well. Is this what I enjoy? I can't say I necessarily love the idea of insecurity all the time, but perhaps that's what I need at this stage in life. I have no idea, and for some reason, having no idea and feeling lost and confused, is strangely...consoling.

I feel like ultimately my problem, is that I have such a low standard for my goal in life--all I really want to do is help people, yet I have such a high standard for a job--it must be exciting, adventurous, and not leave me feeling like I'm doing the same thing day in and day out.

The danger of idealism is getting lost in the clouds and staying in the land of fleeting dreams which have no possible chance of ever being grounded. And then, we lose hope when our dreams do not take off.

I know, and feel, I'm dangerously close, to falling off the edge of "getting lost in the clouds." That would be bad thing. I need to keep my goals for my life--job expectation included--in check of reality, while pushing its boundaries. To do otherwise would leave me with no hope in the end.

That would be a disaster. An unmitigated disaster.