‘Trapped in the wrong reality’ has become tongue-in-cheek shorthand for a lot of people who feel that they somehow ended up with the wrong lot in life.
Even without blaming others, there are perfectly successful and socially slick individuals whose glittering silver careers are lined with clouds, living with skilfully cloaked yet enduring bitterness that shrouds their impressive CVs and takes some of the elation out of every box they ever ticked.
Choosing a career is a risky business. Balancing your dreams with trying to placate the snarling, practical beast at the back of your head, barking the words bank balance and mortgage at you every time your heart injects any substantial hit of inspiration into your wandering mind.
It wouldn’t do if everybody literally followed their dreams, because not everybody’s dream is sustainable on the level of talent some may have. Nor would a world full of footballers and pop stars have much of a shelf life.
We are often reminded of the perseverance of the Oprahs and Michael Jordans of this world, people who got back up again, touching stories that are of value to anybody in any profession. The wise words ‘keep going’ have led many people to achieve things that have moved either them – or the whole world – forward.
Yet, through all this warming and useful inspiration, many people overlook the reality that there is an enormous difference between giving up, and realising that something is not for you. For every one Oprah, there are hundreds, if not thousands, who battled on along the wrong road, or, perhaps, along the right road, yet failing to notice the signs along the way.
This is your turning, mate. Your path lies along there now. You see it?
And so many people don’t. The grind of daily working life, or the joys of daily working life, with their indefatigable grip on our raison d’etre, at least, the way we come to perceive it. It is our received version of our own truth, good enough for most, while for a tiny minority, trapped in the wrong reality takes on rather more relevance than would some besmirched cliche.
In the very early 2000s, I chose to become a teacher, and I am proud of that. No regrets whatsoever (apart from the time I showed an episode of Fawlty Towers to some Elementary students – what was I thinking?).
I have spent 25 years in the classroom as a teacher devoted to my work, and for as many as 24 of those years, it was a source of great pride and joy for me, and little has meant more to me in life than hearing about the success of former students who, perhaps, understand the value I came to have on their own journey.
Teachers are great.
Writing was always just a hobby, but as the snarling practical beast at the back of my own mind has finally got tired, I have moved away from the classroom and accepted the even greater honour of turning facts, ideas, opinions, and life into stories, to work alongside the valued professionals of the mass media of Kazakhstan, a place I believe to be the most wonderful on this planet.
Happy Media Workers’ Day!
