When I was in primary school, I admired the school masters so much. They were the greatest achievers in my primary environment. The crēme de la crēme of our society then. Was jealous of their success and often worked hard with hope that I would be one. They were always in command and authority over us and their decisions were final. They had the prerogative of caning kids and directing our overal lives.
Then high school happened, met a new crop of school masters – degree holders whose heads carried the definitive substance of our lives. And my admiration grew even stronger. I wanted to be like them. I loved their English and sense of fashion (or lack thereof). I held them, and still am – to some extent, with quasi-religious awe. I just wished for nothing short of a high school teacher-self.
Then moved up the ladder to college, meeting thesis writers, rasearchers, consumate professors, academic journal writers, analysts, consultants and fellows. I really want to be like them.
But my want maybe cosmetic, because I now know. Every stage life donates make me want to be like someone. I’m making a stab, just like any other young comme il faut visionaries at finding my true identity, to discover the purpose of my life.
What is good, I embrace each stage of life with THE POWER TO HOPE, which propels me to the next. This power does not work for a few individuals, it works for everyone.
Cultivating the habit of affirming yourself at each stage, of frequently and sincerely communicating your belief in yourself – particularly as a teenager going through your second identity crisis – is supremely important. It is a relatively small investment with incalculable, unbelievable results.
Things may be pretty hard, but something that is truly meaningful and important can become hard and difficult to achieve. You’ve got to face a couple of hurdles but how to tramp them is the secret to success.
I don’t know whom I would want to be like after a few more stages, but do believe I will be my better self.
#Writing Is A Labour Of Love ☺