March 2, 2015
Life was ordinary. It was comfortable, challenging, fun at times, but above all it was normal. Life was ordinary. I graduated high school. I spent a couple of years at community-college, and then moved on to a professional program at a state university. I went to class, went to work, studied my craft, and, in my spare time, enjoyed getting out of the house with friends. It was good, and it was normal.
It was boring.
It was mundane.
Across the internet, in books, on TV, I could find other people having amazing and exciting experiences. I read stories about people traveling the world! I saw clips of people with amazing talents to ski mountains, and hike across Chile. I had a friend who ran marathons, and saw others running through obstacle courses to escape the zombie apocalypse. There were people who traveled to spend time lying on the beach, or painting serene lakes. I wondered how they found the time and money to live their lives that way. It made my life feel dull and incomplete. I wanted to do more. I wanted to travel to Germany like I had always dreamed about, or somewhere else. Anywhere really. Deep down something knew that living the way I’d been living was not enough. It was not how I dreamed I would be living when I was a child –back when they said you can do anything you want with your life, and before they said to go to a good college and get a good job- or how I knew I wanted to be living.
Still, what did I know about doing those things? I was just me. I never considered myself “above average.” I still don’t. I was living off of student loans, with a high course load, trying to fit in time for work to earn some extra income to buy…something. Even if I wanted to travel, there would be no one to come with me. Everyone else was in the same boat as me.
As frustration at my circumstances circled in my head for months, a stray thought started to work its way in. I was coming up on something I had done 18 times before, but this would be the last. This would be the last summer break I ever saw. The next year I would go back to school, going immediately into internships the following summer, and a career the summer after that. This it seemed was the last free stretch of time I would have in a long time. Maybe ever! I knew that if I could not even work up the courage to do this now, I never would.
There is always something standing in your way. There are always excuses you can make, and I had plenty. I had only the money I’d saved from near minimum wage jobs, in my very limited spare time outside of class and studying. I didn’t know German, or any other language besides English. I’d never been that far away. I didn’t have a passport. I didn’t know how to use trains, or otherwise get around. I didn’t know how I’d book lodging, or what the conditions would be. I didn’t have anyone around that showed any interest in going with me. I didn’t even know what on earth I’d do when I got there. The voices rang in my head: “Go home, and work –you need to be saving money.” “You can’t travel to Europe –your parents, and grandparents don’t even do that!” “Where are you going to stay?” “How are you going to get around?” “How are you going to afford that?” “Who are you going to go with?” “You have responsibilities!” “YOU CAN’T!”
The voices deep inside me were terrifyingm and nearly crippling. However, as I began to test the waters outside my own head, the world, to my surprise, was not as threatening as I believed. I started to put out feelers, to combat the problems the voices brought to the surface. I asked an acquaintance if he had been serious when he had offered me an off-handed, “Well, if you ever want to come to the Netherlands, give me a call,” the only time I had met him. I emailed a friend in Turkey to ask if she’d like to meet me in Europe that summer. I poked tenderly on every excuse those voices gave, and they all, one by one, started to dissolve. I received back that I was absolutely welcome to stay in the Netherlands. I researched other places to stay, the flights, the train system, and other costs. To my dismay, and the dismay of everyone close to me, the little money I had saved somehow appeared to be enough for the flights, room, travel, and food expenses. I determined that with a plan, I could get around well enough without knowing the language. My friend in Turkey wrote back with regrets, but then went even further than the rest. Along with an overwhelming amount of support, she told me something I couldn’t believe. She told me that I had to do this, even if I had to go alone. ALONE! After that there was only one last excuse left. Just one last voice remained, reasonless, but stronger and more frightening than all the others. “You just can’t.”
There is no way around this one. None that I know anyway. It doesn’t rely on logic, but it is always there. “You just can’t.” It stands before every action, and accomplishment we brand “impossible.” There are always points of discomfort, telling you can’t realize your dreams. You can’t have the things you want, and you can’t do the things you want to do. You bully yourself into saving it for tomorrow. You add it to the “bucket-list.” Someday you’ll do it. Not today, but someday. There was no magic to getting past this excuse, except to name it as just that. Just an excuse. I earnestly realized that if I did not take that trip that summer, then I’d likely have put it off forever. Not because I thought I’d never have another opportunity, as I was convinced when I started, but because if this chance wasn’t good enough, what was ever going to make the difference? It was one of those clear moments that I could see a breaking point.
They weren’t the best circumstances, but they could have been far worse. However, that’s not even the point. The point is that I saw then that this was possible. It would be hard, but it was possible. I knew that if I let the monstrous voice screaming “You just can’t!” win now, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault but my own for not living the dream I wanted. It wouldn’t be because people, or circumstances, or responsibilities kept me from it. It would be because I denied myself my dreams. That was what it took. That was a guilt I couldn’t live with.
I bought the plane tickets. I ventured to live that dream. It existed.
That summer, I traveled for 2 weeks through 4 cities in Holland, and Germany –most of the time alone. I visited castles, and spas. I explored museums (I still like to break out pretentiously joking that “You haven’t really experiences Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ until you’ve seen the original in Holland,”) and parks. I spent time taking pictures, meeting new people, hiking the mountains, as well as just taking in the cities from street side cafes.
Since then, I’ve “magically” found the time to travel to New Zealand, Mexico, Oregon, South Caroline, New Orleans, and Las Vegas, off the top of my head. I have taught myself to snowboard, and learned to kite-surf. I nearly got stranded on a gravel bar surrounded by tall cliffs learning to surf. I have gone parasailing, jungle trekking, abseiling, cave tubing, and volcano hiking. I have rafted the tallest commercially rafted waterfall in the world. I have laid relaxing by lakes, and beaches. I have tasted wonderful food in wonderful places. I’ve gone on juice fasts, and exercise experiments. I’ve run long distance with zombies growling in my earphones, and I’ve practiced yoga and meditation.
I have realized that I am the only limit on so much of what I want out of my life. With that, I have found a new pain. I see people, and I see their potential. I hear them say, “I really wish I could do that,” after asking where I have been, or what a “Magical Juice Adventure” is. They ask why I went to New Zealand. I fumble in my head between telling them “Because I wanted too,” and “Because I was bored.”
Do you remember when I said I’m not above average? I’m not. If anything I am exactly average. I have a job that I work 40 to 50 hours a week. I have student loans to repay, and car payments to make. I live in a little apartment with beautiful blue walls, in a small city where there is “never anything to do.” I don’t like change. I scare easy, learn slowly, and know how to work myself up into a nervous wreck. However, I know what it is like to dream, and I know what it is like to live those dreams. I know how to do it while balancing school, work, and relationships. And I know about the voice that says, “You just can’t.” You didn’t think anyone else knew, did you? I know. It is there every damn time just as frightening as the last.
I want you to learn to make your dreams exist. I want to the make “bucket list” a four letter word. I want you to live your dreams now instead of putting them off till a day that never comes. I want you to start one right now! Picture yourself on a beach, or in a foreign bustling city. See yourself learning to do that thing you always thought would be so great to be able to do. I want to help show you how to live the dreams you want, and to find your dreams when you don’t know. People far younger, and far broker are living their dreams I promise you. You can too.
When the voice screams “You just can’t,” I want you to hear my voice screaming “YOU CAN!” You absolutely can! I want you to hear all our voices here screaming “WE CAN!” because we are all in this together!
I’m not here to force anything on anyone. If you have a pleasant, peaceful, ordinary little life that you love, congratulations. In fact, I’m surprised you read this far. Life will continue to let you go through the same drab motions. However, if you are not happy with that, if you know like I know that dreams are meant to be lived not experienced in our sleep, and certainly not put off till a day that never comes, then join with me. Let this be the push it takes for you to start working to live the dreams you want to live! Above all, I want you to know that it can be done. Impossible doesn’t exist.
I believe that this is the only life on this earth that I will ever have. I want you to enjoy your life. We live in an age where so much is possible, and so little should hold you back. I have some hard news for you: if something is holding you back, it’s most likely you. You have to decide for yourself if your dreams are as important to you as you say they are. I can’t live them for you –it would defeat the purpose a little, don’t you think?- but I want to help.
Let’s help each other live our dreams.
… I got off the train in Koln, Germany, alone. After checking into a cleanly furnished hostel, and touring the awe-inspiring cathedral built over a span of more than 600 years, I strolled down to walk along the Rhine river. It was a lovely sunny day, and people laid out on the lawns, even though it was just barely too brisk for sunny bathing. The river flowed by, and bikers passed, as I walked without any cares save to daydream. I ate lunch at a street side garden, roughly interpreting the German menu, and mostly pointing to order from the very friendly waitress. The food was delicious! I sat again at the river walk enjoying a conversation with two girls who had come to sit next to me, commenting that my accent was very American. As the sun began to set, they prepared their bikes to return back to their lives, and I began to walk across the bridge to the other side of the city. A chain link fence separated the pedestrians from the train tracks, and on that fence hung thousands of locks, each with the names of two lovers. On the far side I sat looking to the now night skyline, back to where I’d come from. It was beautiful.
And in that moment, I felt a relaxed serenity, as if anything were possible.
-Michael Speck