On accomplishments

I used to wonder whether accomplishment is about the actual achievement of some kind of end-result or the feeling that arises when you know you’ve done something productive, positive, no matter how small. I used to further wonder whether this end-result had to be something tangible, valuable or material or was abstract and just as relative as anything else.

I don’t really like the word accomplishment – it’s too finite for me, too definitive, too focused on this end-result, whereas I do things for the sake of the process and would rather not think of its outcome.

I’ve never had a clear view of what I’d like to do with myself, things I’d like to have, or have accomplished. True, since I was little I liked to speculate about what I could be or do, more considering those options with wishy-washy wistfulness than any kind of seriousness of intent. With the exception of becoming a doctor - I was pretty determined on that one for a while until my mother talked me out of and for which I’m forever grateful to her. Since then I've dreamed about becoming a biologist, psycologist, a writer, but I could have just as well been dreaming about being an airline hostess, train conductor or astronomer.

If you asked me some five-seven years ago where I thought I would be at this point of my life, I would hardly have a clue, and Richmond would certainly not be one of the places I would start guessing.

The problem with me has never been about being or not being able to do things that I want to do – the problem has always been in not wanting to do anything at all, and being depressed, bitter and disillusioned to even get motivated enough to do something. And if that was not the case, it was insufficient amount of faith in myself that wouldn’t let me as much as even try. And besides most of my late teen and early adult life was spent worrying and taking care of things of more basic and imminent nature, like supporting myself, helping my mother, making sure that at least she didn’t have to worry about me. Granted considerable part of that time was spent feeling completely hopeless and apathetic and helpless to try and change anything. Another part was spent in an unsuccessful and failed relationship that was a complete desaster, unless you consider choosing no relationship over a bad one as accomplishment in itself.

Today when I think about accomplishments, I can hardly name a few that appear important, significant. The fact that I was good in school and good at the very few things that I actually did end up trying hardly accounts for anything. Yes, I did manage to miraculously graduate from school with straight As, despite my less than exemplary attendance, my active attempts to drop out at the beginning of each semester, and simply not going to class the whole senior year. And yes, I’ve always been successful in finding jobs that I more or less liked and was appreciated enough to feel “accomplished” about them (one of my bosses actually called me the best legal assistant he had had, since the existence of the firm – how awesome is that?). I’ve been described as “talented, promising, bright” - but when it comes to accomplishments, I really don't have much to brag about. I have not written a book, made a movie, become famous. I haven’t built homes or opened a business. I don’t have exciting experiences of exotic countries and foreign cultures other than what I’ve found here and the ones that were sort of “given” to me by birth. I really haven’t done anything much at all, except for moving from States back home and back to the States again every two-three years or so ever since I was fifteen.

And yet, when I think about what matters to me, and what I feel “accomplished” about, a few things come to mind. Being able to pull myself out of my previous hopeless and helpless state was an accomplishment. Overcoming depression, bitterness and apathy was another one. Saying no to a relationship that was bad and harmful for me and realizing why exactly it was bad and what about it was so harmful for me was an accomplishment. Staying alive and not breaking down after a strenuous, emotionally demanding breakup was an accomplishment. Choosing my sanity over chaos was accomplishment. Giving up my illusions, delusions, utopias and dystopias and learning to live and cope with the reality as it is was certainly an accomplishment. Overcoming an eating disorder was one of the greatest thing I have ever done, knowing that I did it on my own makes it even better. Being able to overcome part of my fears and starting to make weak, but at least some kind of attempts to do things that I want to do is an accomplishment. Learning to appreciate life as it is and being happy with the mere thought of being alive is an accomplishment. Having been in a new relationship for almost a whole year without going crazy about any of my past relationship issues is definitely an accomplishment. Learning to dream again is probably the greatest one of them all.

I may have not accomplished much, but I’m still young enough to afford to think that the greatest part of my life is still ahead of me. I may or may not write a book, make a movie, save the world or millions of dollars. But at least I have overcome one of my greatest fears – the fear of living – and that, definitely is an accomplishment.