The Future You Want Is Possible
Dear Kenomola,
I have not written to you in a long while. I do not have any particular reason, but I think it took this long because I had no words to share. Whenever the words came, I felt unworthy of sharing as well, and I was too busy trying to stay afloat to write to you.
Unworthiness is a funny thing. The feeling that I have not experienced enough of life to share my thoughts with you is ridiculous. What counts as enough experience? At what age will I feel experienced enough to talk about the ups and downs of living?
I do not claim expertise. I am writing to you about where I am. And this is where I am — My heart feels light.
I had a conversation with a friend and mentor yesterday, and I decided to write you this letter. The talk was about my career goals and the problems I wanted to solve. The conversation was helpful. Kenomola, for the first time in a while, the future I want seems possible. My friend/mentor made the future look attainable. After the talk, I realized the importance of having cheerleaders. People that tell you, ‘Yes, you can!’
My close friends cheer me on, but this felt different. I think I know why, Kenomola. My close friends and I are in similar stages of life. We are all fighting to make sense of things, to get ahead. The extent to which we can encourage each other has its limits sometimes.
I think there is a kind of peace that comes from knowing that the path you dream of taking is not novel. To hear those that have gone before you say, ‘I know you have what it takes to do this.’
Having older friends, those who have gone ahead is helpful.
Talking to my mentors or older friends reminds me that my dreams are feasible. One time, just after medical school, I found myself grocery shopping with my mentor (another person). Well, he was shopping for his family, and I was ranting about my fears and uncertainties. I was uncertain about what to do next and scared of trying and failing. I remember the two of us walking down the aisles. I kept talking as he picked up item after item. When I finished, he addressed most of my fears and left me with something to think about.
“Why should anyone bet on you if you cannot bet on yourself? You need to believe that you can do this.”
I remember this whenever I want to quit Kenomola. I remember this question when the road feels too rough, and Ola Rotimi’s prayer too vivid.
Kenomola, we all are winging it. But I need you to know that you are in charge of your life story. Many things may be beyond your influence (where you are born, the exchange rate etc). But you determine how the few things that are within your control will go.
If you are diligent with the little you can control — Your time, your skills and personal development, then you will be given more to control. I do not believe in destiny. The idea that the events of your life have been decided before you were born is absurd to me. But I believe in natural laws. The law of reward for effort, and the ability of the Universe to attract what you deeply desire to you.
I believe in your ability to tell your story, to forge your path.
Do you know the beautiful thing about having people around you who make the future simpler and more attainable? It fills you with belief, strength, and the weightlessness of optimism.
Kenomola, it is so difficult to stay hopeful right now. I know this lightness I feel will give way to the heaviness of the human condition. In a way, writing it down here helps me capture some of this weightlessness permanently.
These are tough times Kenomola, and I need all the hope I can get.
