Back in 2001, I received my associates degree in English. It took me 3 years to accomplish after spending my first year at MTSU in Tennessee studying everything except my school work. I had just had my first real heart break, so I dabbled in everything my momma warned me about and told me not too. I remember as the year was ending, sitting in my bunk bed and having the thoughts, "this is not the path that I have chosen for you." I knew I could not go back to that place.
The next 2 years, I lived with the 'rents, studying at Volunteer State Community College in Gallatin, Tenn. and worked full time as a Dept. Supervisor for Toys R Us. When I received my diploma, I knew quitting college was not an option. So I began the quest of searching for where I'd spend the next chapter of my life.
I sat down with a piece of paper and tried to write out exactly what it was that I loved to do. Medicine? Nope. Law? Too confusing. Teacher? Maybe.
But what do you love?? Eventually, somewhere deep inside of me, I knew what I wanted to do was to pursue writing. My bedroom floor was surrounded by journals I had kept as a kid. I had filled notebooks with one-liners and random "words" (not complete sentences.) Writing made me happy. It kept me honest. It kept me sane.
There was a voice, however, that I could hear clear as day in my head saying, "You shouldn't be in this class. You are not good enough." That voice was my high school AP English teacher. I hate to say it, but on that summer day, I gave her the one finger salute and began searching for degrees in what I loved to do: writing.
That's when I discovered Maryville College, located right on the cusp of the Great Smokey Mountains, one of my favorite places on earth. It was like I could hear the angels sing when I discovered they offered a degree in Writing Communications. It's been 10 years since I graduated, and yes, I'm still paying off my college loan from that little gem of a school; however, I accomplished something bigger than finishing my degree. I made my first big decision to do what
I loved. Somewhere about half way through accomplishing it, I received word and what I felt was confirmation that my old high school AP teacher was no longer teaching but stocking greeting cards at a corner store.
Karma.
My senior year at this school, we all were required to take a Senior Seminar class. The classes offered were not relevant to any particular degree but was required. I signed up for "Seminar of Happiness," which was taught by a Buddhist. For a complete semester, we read books and philosophies from different philosophers such as Aristotle ("Happiness depends on our self.") to Voltaire ("What is called happiness is an abstract idea, composed of various ideas of pleasure; for he who has but a moment of pleasure is not a happy man, in like manner that a moment of grief constitutes not a miserable one.")
At the end of the course, our final exam was to write a letter to our "future child," giving them our words of wisdom of "how to be happy." Somewhere tucked away in a dusty, cob-webbed box, after 6 moves later, I still have that letter.
Fast forward now, 10 years and a multitude of life experiences later, I think I have about whittled down a 5 page letter into 1 sentence:
Happiness is doing what you love; seeing the value in others and serving them; loving someone more than yourself; accepting people are merely human; being involved in something bigger than your inner circle; creating something whether it is art, life or ideas; giving more than you take; being a contributor and not a contaminator in relationships; and loving and serving God.
Good luck to all this week as we all journey the "pursuit of happiness." May we all give the one-finger salute to that voice who is telling you "you're not good enough." God bless!
