Talent is for amateurs
I read somewhere that talent is just another way of saying “that which comes easily.” I am one of those unlucky spoiled children who was born with enough talent to launch him gently but confidently two rungs above average and not an inch further. Based on what my talents have told me about myself, I’ve reached for the stars, plotted my course, made life-altering decisions and burned my fair share of bridges all without the benefit of having to work for any of it. Things just came naturally and without effort. However, talent is a fickle playmate. Talent will only carry you so far. The rope eventually reaches its end, leaving you hanging on the side of a mountain molded out of your own dreams wondering if you should let go or search elsewhere for the strength to continue the precipitous climb. I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going and it scares the shit out of me. Talent got me drunk, drove me out into the desert and left me to find my own way home. The solution is obvious, but it’s one of those grown-up pills that are hard to swallow and would taste better all sugar-coated but mommy forgot to go to the store so all we have to put on those Cheerios is salt and paprika. Now I have to work. It won’t be easy anymore. I can’t rest on my laurels or look back at past accomplishments. It’s going to be hard and it’s going to hurt but if I want the things I’ve dreamed about all my life I have to find some way to keep climbing. Shit!