My Give-A-Damn’s Busted or Find Your North And Never Look Back
Pardon me while I hop up on my soapbox and preach a bit...
Somewhere around the age of the 30 my Give-a-Damn got busted. In a serious way. I’ve always heard that your 30s are amazing because you figure out who you are and if you’re lucky, where you’re heading in life. I can honestly say that in my case, this has been very true. I turned 30 a few years ago and somewhere around that time my Give-a-Damn broke.
Not in the “I will wear red and purple, spend all my money on pickles and learn how to spit” kind of broke. This is more along the lines of confidence, in a “I know what I’m worth and what I want from life, so I’m going to take it!” type of way. I don’t work for free, unless I want to, and I don’t jump at every job that comes along because I’m so desperate to do something in the writing field. Best of all, I’ve learned to tell potential employers that I don’t work for peanuts!!! And they hire me anyway because they know I’m going to give them quality work.
But just because I woke up one morning to discover I didn’t give a damn anymore doesn’t mean it was an over-night miracle. The realization might have been overnight, but there were 30 some-odd years where I did give a damn. There were 30+ years of having “lots of potential” without the ability to deliver. Years of insecurity, missteps, and failures that I had to experience in order to know what was the right way to go. To find my ‘North,’ if you will.
This is not a real tattoo, but something I was trying out to see how I liked the look. FYI - I love it! So if you don’t, not my problem.
Knowing who you are and finding your way are big themes with me. They feature a lot in my writing. The reason is that for so much of my life I have just wandered around, somewhat directionless. This will probably surprise anyone who actually knows me because I’ve always had great insight into who I am at any given time and where I want to go in life. But knowing where you want to go is not the same as knowing how to find your way. And for a long time I was lost. Really, really, really lost. Like never finding my way out of the woods kind of lost.
How did I find my North? God. I don’t meant that in some caricature of Christianity type of way, but in a serious way. I was lost and God was the only one who knew where I needed to go, so I trusted him to lead. I’ve been following his map ever since and the outcome has been pretty amazing.
If you’re not Christian or don’t believe in God, I may have just lost your attention, but stick with me anyway. I’m a Christian, so finding my north means I stop reprogramming the stupid GPS all the time and let God do the navigating. It means that I stop burying who I am beneath a well-polished veneer and let the world see my scars. For better or for worse. It means that I point myself North and never look back. And because my Give-a-Damn’s busted the only opinions that matter are mine and God’s.
But that may not be your life and where you’re at. I’m not equating finding your north with finding God. I’m talking about finding the path you’re meant to be on. That may mean making a career change because you hate your lousy job, deciding that you’re underpaid and deserve more. That your family needs you and it’s time they were a priority in your life; that there is a vast world to explore and you’re going to go out and see it. Or that you’re done making excuses about the weight you’ve put on and will finally commit to that lifestyle change you know you should have made years ago when it would have been easier.
Whatever! It just means that you get out of the freakin’ Doldrums and get on the right course. And when you do, you may find that your Give-a-Damn gets a little busted too and you no longer give-a-damn about the things that have been holding you back. That’s what happened to me anyway and I’ve never been happier.