I is for…

Idiot, as in "I am one of those."

I meant to use the photo of the potato chip display from yesterday’s post and write "I is for Ingenious (if I do say so myself)," but I forgot and went off in another direction.  I’m so far behind in the ABC-Along, which, by the way, I am hosting — so don’t anyone feel badly about lagging.  I recall slogging through the J-K-L area last time, too.  I’m actually super excited about and just biding my time ’til Q.  Heh.

And then this morning…  I is for "Is it too late?"  There was a discussion on my commute radio today about some companies and colleges adopting or looking at a 4-day week to ease fuel costs associated with the getting to-and-fro.  I’ve been on that type of schedule for over 4 years now, and I sure do love it.  One of the personalities took it a bit further:  You know what I’d like?  One of those jobs where you work for two weeks and get a week off… or work for three days and get two days off… like a fireman.  Yeah, wouldn’t that be great?  Is it too late?  Is it too late to make a career change like that?

Interesting. I is for Is it too late?  Oh, how I’ve struggled with that question in so many areas of my life — and continue to struggle, even while taking great strides toward change.  And it isn’t just Is it too late?  A whole chorus of similar questions rushes in on its heels.  Can you do it?  Are you good enough?  Who’d want that?  Who do you think you are?  (This is only the tippy-top of the Is it too late? iceberg.)

Truth is, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know… I do know that it’s too late when you give up or give in to the fright or don’t even try.  It’s taken a long while and many, many lessons to learn that and to build up the confidence.  It’s taken a long time to learn how to put my blinders on and to stick my fingers in my ears and to move — keep moving — forward, eye on the prize and all that.  It’s not too late.

I smiled when I read a line in Elizabeth’s post the other day: "I hope when I am 80 I am still upgrading."  By that standard, it is certainly not too late for me.

It’s not too late.  It’s not too late to learn how to dream a little — or a lot, with wild abandon.  Maybe that’s the most important thing of all.  I have learned to let myself dream a little.  What would I do?  What could I do?  What do I want to do?  And then, How can I make it happen — all or in part?  I encourage that kind of thinking in my kids all the time — Go for it, You can do it, You can do whatever you want!

So can I.  If, for no other reason, as an eldest child and a mother — one of those people always expected to set a good example (whether they frickin’ want to or not) — I feel that I must do as I say and, at the very least, model the behavior I have done so well to instill in and expect from my children!  It’s not too late.

I get kind of emotional when I think of all the support I have received in dreaming little dreams and reaching for the stars — from my family, especially my kids (plotz) — and this is surely one of the ways in which blogging has enriched my life — changed my life.

I’m scared as hell.  And that only means that it’s time to put those blinders back on and stick my fingers in my ears and get to work — own this new thing — so that I can eventually spill it.