Dreams Are For Gifted People With No Discipline
“There were reports of people having sex in the boats owned by the university.”
There’s a character on the History Channel’s hit show Vikings named Ragnar Lothbrok who repeatedly smiles in very intense and dangerous situations. Situations in which he shouldn’t be smiling, but showing remorse. He’s defiant. Dangerous. And as I stand in front of my fraternity’s disciplinary council I have this same smile. Defiant. And it looks like this:
“Did you not have fun?” I ask.
“This is serious….”
“I’m serious, did you not have fun?”
A belabored sigh. “Sure, Sledge…we all had fun. But now we’re facing probation and breaking and entering charges.”
The week prior I had helped coordinate and all campus party with the help of another fraternity besides my own. We obtained a key to the prestigious Yacht Club where the university sailing team practiced and proceeded to invite half the campus. Initially I was told no one would show up. That no one would want to drive that far away from campus to avoid the cops just for a party. But that didn’t deter me.
After all, I had Dionysus on my side.
Because of my major (graphic design), I ended up taking a lot of Art History classes in college. I particularly enjoyed my studies in Greco-Roman art, learning about the mythology behind the Gods they worshipped. They seemed to have a God for just about everything, but perhaps the one that stood out most was their party God –Dionysus. I liked Dionysus because he was the God of wine, merry-making, fertility, and “ritual madness.” The fact they had a God who was into making everyone party crazy made me love hearing about his antics in class. After all, I might have well been one of his most distinct pupils. I liked parties, women, and booze. In fact, much of my college life revolved around that. And although I identified as Christian (more by upbringing than in belief) I found that Dionysus was whom I truly worshipped.
I made good grades in college but was a half-assed student. I would skip class to plan parties or if better plans came along I would take them over a test. I would lie to professors about deadlines I needed extended because I wanted to party on a Wednesday instead of waiting till the weekend. I would make up stories about Veteran Affairs appointments I had for the injuries I received in Afghanistan. What professor says “No” to that?! And if they did you could suddenly accuse them of “hating America” and go straight to the dean. Problem solved. If F.O.M.O. (Fear Of Missing Out) was a God I would have worshipped him too. My life revolved around living it up. I even earned the nickname “Hollywood” with my Army buddies when, in the middle of a combat exercise, they found me on the phone planning a party I wasn’t even attending.
It wasn’t until I graduated that I realized the damage I had done. I was a gifted artist but had never applied myself. I knew nothing of discipline and perseverance, and because I was busy sacrificing at the Altar of Fun for 5 years, I watched other people easily get the jobs I was applying for. My portfolio of artwork and websites was just okay. Nothing stood out. My other classmates were catching their big breaks with large companies but I was still searching. Here I had wasted my talent and an opportunity to further develop my gifting.
I meet a lot of gifted people in my line of work. People with eyes for stories. Video. Business. Design. Music. And their raw talent amazes me. But the problem is that just like the college version of me, they’re still hanging out with Dionysus. They want their career and life to be all fun, but don’t want to put in the hard work to get there. They want the spontaneous moments of madness when they can sham out of a responsibility and party instead of practicing their craft. They want their cake and to eat it too.
Instead of persevering and sacrificing for the things we’re passionate about we’ll look at our dreams and say, “It’s just too hard and too far away. I could never reach it.” So our dreams stay just that. Dreams. And Dionysus’s invite always looms — “Just be happy. Get a job that pays bills and have fun with your friends. You couldn’t have made it anyway so just join the party and have fun. Live for that.”
But inevitably we’ll see people fulfilling our dreams and years later we’ll wonder why we wasted all our talent on just the mundane party we’ve been at for years.
Post college, I spent quite a few months working on new projects, doing tutorials, and free work for people who wanted it as I refined my craft. I was up late and spent a lot of time at a local printer’s office creating a new portfolio. 3 months later I got my first job as a contract employee driving 45 minutes to another city each morning. It was hard. But I was focused and determined not to let Dionysus get the best of me anymore.
The discipline and practice paid off. I got good at my craft and got to chase after the things I was passionate about because I got serious about running the race as opposed to sitting in the bleachers watching someone else run it.
There’s a story that made the news a few years ago about the night Kobe Bryant lost a game to the Miami Heat. Unlike his teammates who showered and went off to explore Miami nightlife, he walked back on the court and began practicing. He took hundreds of shots — 3-pointers, post-ups, wing jumpers, corner jumpers, and free throws. Sometimes making them, other times missing only to be critical of his practice and yelling at himself. He did this well into the night until he was satisfied.
We often wonder how the “greats” caught their “lucky break”. But there’s no secret to most of their stories. They practiced. Again and again. After every loss and set-back the areas where their raw talent remained weak they sharpened and refined against the blunt rock of life and experience until they became the sword you’d want to choose in battle.
Many of us might need to put on the proverbial sneakers and start practicing our shots. Dionysus will whisper that since we blew the game why not have a little fun? That we deserve it and can try again later. Until later becomes never.
So maybe we haven’t visited the court or put on the jersey in a while. Maybe we keep missing shots. Maybe we’re on a losing streak.
But the practice court is always open. And practice makes perfect.
