Don’t Damn Me!

I’ve known for pretty much all of my life that i lack ambition. Sometimes it’s played on my mind, momentarily, most of the time i just see it as part of who i am.

Last night, while in my night-class, i was talking to the teacher, in the break, and he asked what my plans were. He wanted to know where i was planning on taking English, writing, etc, once i’d passed this course.

I had to think.

When i first started the class, i was merely looking for something to do, with maybe the idea of bettering my writing, learning a bit more about grammar, structure, style, etc. Then, because of the teachers positive response, i sort of toyed with the idea of maybe doing an A-level, should i pass the GCSE level well enough (B or better).

I told him this, and he asked if i was planning to maybe try my hand at writing, professionally.

I scoffed silently at this idea, and tried to ground us both a little by telling him i’d quite like to make a few quid writing short stories, maybe for magazines or websites, etc, should i get good enough.

I realise as a teacher, it’s his job to build confidence and shall we say “over-sell” the greatness of each individual and their work, but i do find it a little annoying, that he’s pushing ideas like professional writing on me, after reading four of my stories, which in all honesty, although i think at least one of them is really good, aren’t as great as he makes out.

He then asked if i’d thought about going to university, maybe after the A-level, to which i umm’d and ahh’d, then finally told him i wasn’t keen on devoting 4-5 years to it, as it seemed a bit much, for something at the end that probably wouldn’t do me any real good. Afterall, even if i was going to be a professional writer, it’s not like i’d need a degree to do so, that’s what editors and proof-readers are for. I didn’t tell him the last bit, because i know he’d push it, if i even mentioned the idea of writing professionally, even if it was just to illustrate a point, rather than in any seriousness!

One good thing did come out of it though, he mentioned Access courses, which i do like the sound of. We were pushed for time, as the break was ending, so i didn’t find out all the details, but what he did tell me sounded quite good. Two days a week, for two years, covering Maths (Which i already love), English (Which i quite like), and something else, which he didn’t get around to telling me about. Then after the two years, i have the equivalent of 2-3 A-levels. I could probably stretch to that, and it sounds achievable. Maybe.

The one thing the night really made me think about though, was my lack of ambition. The reasons for it and whether or not i should try and change it, or challenge myself.

Part of the reason is almost surely confidence, and fear, if they’re not the same thing. No-one wants to put effort and time into something only to fail, but most people tend to give it a go. I don’t. I tend to live my life, quietly, without much bother (Where i can), plodding along at my own pace and achieving what i can, along the way.

I never really push myself, or set myself big goals. The goals i do set tend to be quite simple, achievable, basic.

• School

At school i was always reasonably intelligent, a bit above average. But my reports always contained similar sentiments, from primary school, right through secondary school, and even into college. “Paul has the ability, if he would just put it into action.” Or something similar.

I tended to plod along, doing only as much as it took to get a decent grade, then spend the rest of the time having fun, messing around, etc.

I was always in the top 3, or thereabouts, in Maths, Accounts, Business Studies, French, etc. And in the tests i’d usually hit C’s or B’s, with the exception of Maths, which i always nailed with A’s, because it came more naturally to me and my lack of studying or revising didn’t matter much.

Even when i reached the GCSE years, 4th and 5th, i had to make decisions about what grades i would push for, and much to my form, i chose the easiest path. I chose to aim for C grades, because it meant less work, less coursework, and no extra classes, after school hours. With the exception of Accounts, because that didn’t mean extra work, just a more difficult exam paper, so i went for that.

So, although i had my Maths teacher pushing me to go higher-level, and aim for A/B, i refused and instead aimed for C (which i got). I even redid my Maths GCSE a few years ago, and again when given the choice, i aimed for the B (The new equivalent of C) and got it, rather easily.

• English

So, at the moment i’m doing English and it all seems rather easy. I’m thinking i could probably do the A-level, or the Access course, and do reasonably well. But, rather than take that and challenge myself on it, or try and better myself from it, i’d rather just take the easy way out and get what i can get, without too much effort.

Although i don’t have much confidence in my writing, mainly because i’ve read much better, by much better writers, and i see the huge gap between their work and mine, i do know that i could probably make a few quid from it. I have enough of a grasp of things and enough decent ideas with a penchant for some quite popular subjects, like horror, UFOs, etc, to at least make a little ripple, somewhere.

• The problem

I see someone like Darryl, who has pushed himself to amazing levels, even choosing to self-publish his work, and achieving his goals. A great book, being sold for real hard cash, and receiving pretty high acclaim.

But i know i could never do that. I’m not sure i’d even want to, and that seems to be the crux of the problem.

I’m not sure where lack of ambition ends, and fear/lack of confidence begins, or even if they’re the same thing in different flavours.

I know that if i’d gone to that English class, and sucked at it, i wouldn’t have gone back. I’m not even sure it’s about embarassment, or failure. There would always be others struggling, and sometimes it just takes a while to get the hang of a certain subject. And i’m sure the teacher would have been supportive and tried to help as best as he could. But i think i would have just cut it off, as something i wasn’t any good at. A bit like when i tried ice-skating, ended up on my arse for most of the time, and never went back. I wasn’t embarassed that i fell, or that i was crap at it, actually i found it pretty funny, but i just accepted it wasn’t for me, and there wasn’t any point in trying to change that.

I tend to view all of life like this. I tend to accept my place, rather than strive for something better.

After i broke up with my ex, i accepted that i’d never find happiness, love, etc. It was all very depressing, but i figured i’d do better accepting that, than trying to find something that wasn’t for me, only finding disappointment and cruel-heartbreak every time it went wrong.

I’m more torn on that now, and i’ll leave it to another post, sometime in the future, but you get the idea.

• Is it really such a bad thing though?

One of my cruel pleasures in life is watching the first part of X-Factor.

I like to watch the mentalists, striding in full of confidence, sometimes surrounded by family and friends, people who have built them up to think they are great, only to have their world crumble around them when the judges laugh, or humiliate them on TV.

I’ve never understood though, why it’s the judges that receive the flack for this, as they’re only telling the truth. It’s the parents, friends and family of this person who are guilty. And maybe the person themselves.

Going on a TV show, to try and be a pop star, without any talent, is stupidity. Telling your child they have the voice of an angel, is fine, if they’re 4 years old, and singing in the bath. But once that child grows up, they need some reality and honesty. If i had a child, i’d rather she cried herself to sleep one night, after i offered to pay for singing lessons, because her voice isn’t quite up to that level yet (I’d still be subtle, i’m not a monster! ), than have her go through therapy well into her adult years, because of a great humiliation suffered on national TV.

And this is how i treat myself. I’m under no illusions about my abilities, potentionals, etc. I’m probably a little too harsh on myself, and that comes from fear, fear of disappointment, fear of heartache, etc.

I have my barriers, i don’t believe i’ll ever fall in love again, in the same way as i did with my ex. I don’t believe i’ll ever be as trusting as i was then, again, nor as loving, as caring, etc.

I don’t believe i’ll ever amount to anything in the literary world, above the level of short-story writer, getting a few quid every now and then from a website, magazine or fanzine.

I don’t believe i have what it takes for university, and degrees and the like. I’m not sure my intelligence would stretch that far, and i’m not convinced i’d stick with it, for 4-5 years, even if i was smart enough.

• We need shelf stackers too

Recently i heard that Tesco are paying something like £10.64 an hour, for night-shift shelf stackers. I quite like the idea of that job, and i plan to look into it, once they’re looking for staff (They aren’t at the moment).

That’s my idea of “future.” Earning a decent wage, for a job that’s not too taxing, mentally, and using my spare time to write short stories.

It’s all rather simplistic, which is fine by me. Obviously if i got married and had children, £10.64 an hour is still decent, and rather than the 3 nights a week i’d probably do now, for a comfortable living, i’d probably have to push for 5 nights a week, to support a family, but it’d still be a fair old life. Sorted, as they say.

• Contentment vs. achievement

I guess Contentment is what it comes down to. I don’t want to be a rock star, making millions of pounds each time i don my leather trousers and take the stage with a bottle of whisky in one hand, and a pair of 17 year old twins letting me fondle them with the other hand.

I don’t have any dreams of being rich, famous, gifted, talented, etc. In fact, those ideas have negative connotations for me. I don’t want to be famous. And although i wouldn’t mind a bit of financial comfort or security, i wouldn’t want to be rich.

If i won the lottery (which would be difficult, as i tend to buy a ticket once or twice a year), i’d end up giving away most of it to charity, not because i’m a great person and feel love for those who are suffering, mostly just because i wouldn’t want the responsibility of that kind of money.

• So, what is the answer?

I don’t know. I don’t really see my attitude as a problem, only others do really. Others think i should apply myself more, much like my reports read at school, they think i have the abilities and intelligence for much more than i’m currently achieving, and on some things i might even agree, but i’m just not that bothered about challenging things, unless something takes my fancy.

I’m not against the idea of being a writer, or getting a degree, etc. If something was to push me in those directions, i wouldn’t see it as a bad thing. if, through short-stories, i should ever find myself wanting a little bit more, and stretching things to bigger and better things, it might well be a good thing. But i just don’t see it as worthwhile to push myself in that direction just for the sake of it. For the sake of appearance or public perception, etc.

Other people looking in, might think i’m denying myself, denying myself my ambitions, not achieving what i’m capable of, denying myself the joy of love, romance, fulfillment, etc. If that’s what’s going on, so be it. I’m almost content in my life. I have a few little things that i need to sort out, things which i want to do, which i want to improve on, etc.

I’m certainly better off and happier than those misguided fools on X-factor, with dreams of stardom and admiration, for a talent that they just don’t have. I may not have much, but i know that the things i perceive myself to have, are real.

The wise man builds his house on the rocks. I have a decent foundation, it’s sturdy, it won’t crumble when put to the test. And maybe from that, over the rest of my life, i can build up a few little add-ons around my little cottage, enough to keep things interesting and moving along. That’s much better than building a big, plush castle on the sand, only to have it washed away by the next tide.