My sister was offered a new job today.  Pitifully low pay.  Probably long hours.  I am ridiculously jealous.

Something happened to me recently.  More accurately, I have been lucky enough to spend time with someone who is doing what he loves.  And he is good at it.  Not "good at it in a hobby sort of way," but actually "good at it in an I don't know why he's not famous yet" sort of way.  I'm totally in awe of this person.  This person who still lives with his parents in order to work on his passion.  This person who I am pretty sure is a serious insomniac because all he can think about is doing what it is he does with all of his heart and soul.   I am wondering when I became less of that person and more of the person that I am today.

In all fairness to my personal goals, I've recently found myself in a job that at the outset was very promising, and creative, and doing what I love.  Now, people are "let go" daily, and my industry isn't exactly one with tons of respect right now (partial disclosure: I work at a health insurance company).  How did I get here?  How did I come so far from being the person who couldn't wait to go to work, to share ideas, to be creative, to explore, to revel in tiny and big successes that I got to be a part of?  How did I become the person who can barely get out of bed, who regularly barfs after conference calls, who needs a tankard of coffee to get through, who can barely find it in myself not to yell or cry or use my middle finger?  What happened to my idealism and my hope for a brighter future?

I think about all of that a lot.  And I realize that I am damaging my soul or something.  So in order to maintain some sort of the person I kind of thought I was and even some of the person I always thought I would be, I began to blog again.  And to paint.  While I don't have one tenth of the talent of my friend, I am beginning to feel ever so slightly better. 

So my sister got a job offer today.  Did I mention the pay was dismal?  She called to say that she was definitely not taking it: she can't live on $12 an hour.  But here's the thing: the job was making jewelry for a well-known artist that gets sold to upscale retailers for resale.  This artist has been on Oprah.  And my sister loves making jewelry.  Going to Micheals, for her, is as good as a 70% off sale at Coach for me (yes, I am aware that this is a fictional sale, but a girl can dream, right?).  So, despite my role as the practical one, the one that's good with money, the stable and "grown up" one, I fought her.  Where does she see herself in five years?  Is she doing something she loves?  Couldn't this be a stepping stone to bouncing out of bed, excited to go to work, making something new, attaining a higher creative and more fulfilling life?  Couldn't this be THE chance to jump out of the car pool lane and into a swimming pool of possibilities?  Honestly, I would gladly make up her salary difference in blood money from this awful insurance company just to live vicariously through her as she takes a chance at doing something she loves.  Even if she never becomes a famous jewelry designer herself.  Even if she starts and realizes it's a sweatshop.  I just want her to slip through this window and SEE.

So my hope for her translates, ever so slightly, into a little bit of hope for myself.  I know I'm never going to get somewhere if I don't start taking some chances, thinking about "success" differently, doing more of what I love.  Believing again that something great just may happen for me, if I look for it, if I strive for it, if I let it.  I owe the inspiration to my friend.  I owe the idea that it's possible to my sister.