Sometimes our real value is something we take so for granted, we can't even see what it is or why someone would pay us to do it. Looking inside ourselves, and actually appreciating our own talents, and then valuing ourselves first, before we offer what we have to the rest of the world, can be the most challenging task of all.

But I'm going to die trying to value my own gifts, and to help whoever I can along the way.

I'm not exactly sure where I'd place myself in the categories you outline, Jayson, but I think I'd fit somewhere between the strategist and the wanderer. I do see similarities with all the categories, and I think you're right in pointing out that a major part of it is wanting to remain in your “safe zone” (perhaps a term overused, but still I think effective).

See, I went to graduate school right after college. I had asked for advice on what to do. Upon graduating from college in 2002, the economy was still suffering from the internet bubble of 2001, and job prospects weren't so hot. I kinda thought continuing education would be interesting and rewarding, and gave it a go. What I think I didn't want to admit to myself was that it was a way of putting off any real decision making. The advice I received was kinda watery – just do what your heart tells you, yeah grad school is good, might as well go to school again cause you won't be spinning your wheels looking for a job.

Well, after 5 years of grad school I found I was pretty much in the same position I had started in. Five years, and I was still spinning my wheels. Don't get me wrong, I was interested in research and taking classes (academically I did quite well), but the projects I worked on didn't sit quite right with me. I found myself not really liking what I was doing, but chiding myself with Macbeth's adage “I am in blood stepped in so far that should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er.” It was coupled with some setbacks (advisors leaving, needing to start over, etc), and by the time the 5th year rolled around I knew something was very wrong.

I tried escaping my responsibilities and questioning who I was and what the heck I was doing. It got pretty bad – if anyone's ever read “Crime and Punishment” you might shudder to hear that I could very much identify with Raskalnikov (you know, the protagonist … the axe murderer). And Porfiry's words rang true: “What you need now is fresh air, air, air!. With the help of some friends I pulled out in time, and realized I needed to take control of where my life was heading.

So I got out of academia, got a decent job in a new city, and began working hard. I had to face who I was, and how I had let myself slide into a soft, lazy whiner, and it was going to require some hard work to unlearn the bad habits I'd been cultivating while putting off my decision to take myself seriously. Now, about three years later, I can look back and see the progress I've made – I'm less mousy, more emotionally stable, and stand more firmly under pressure. I'm not saying I'm perfect now – far from it – but there's been progress.

I'm not sure what the next step for me is … I guess that's where I feel like I'm a strategist. I knew this current position was not meant to be where I'll be spending the rest of my life. And I think the time to move on is just about here. But I think in a stronger sense I am the wanderer, because I'm not so much driven by money (though I'm not sure I'd call myself the adventurer – not to say I wouldn't love to be) … I just want to do something that I can wake up in the morning and be excited about accomplishing – which hasn't happened in a long time. Still not sure what it is … I do have a better idea of what it's not .

So, Jayson, I take what you've said to heart and, as I mentioned, it echos a lot of what I've been mulling over. I've begun fighting that fear, and experiencing the benefits of it. It seems to me that it will take the rest of my lifetime to totally conquer it, but I know where the alternative road leads (been there, done that) so I guess I step into that uncertainty with a certain amount of peace. I like the questions you post toward the end – and I'll definitely be contemplating them before, during, and after my next transition.

To anyone else still reading this rambling post – good luck with your own adventure through life. Hopefully you'll make braver and smarter decisions than I have. And if you haven't, I can tell you that I've learned it's never too late to get up, dust yourself off, and trudge on again. And one of the keys to doing this is to take a sledge hammer to your preconceived notions and your ego, and to have a little bit of faith for once to do that little something crazy you never thought possible. I haven't totally succeeded yet … but at this point it's just a matter of time.