Old Yellow Pages ✓

34. mission

1st february, friday, 2019

dear diary,

There are two kinds of ambitious people in this world:

1. Who will do any job as long as they get money and can fill their stomachs. They will continue to study what they are studying and will do any job related to that. A good salary, a good position. There are certain things they want from their job. Certain fixed holidays. Certain work conditions. Then they can come home and relax with families. 

2. Those who have a mission and find their jobs accordingly. It doesn't matter what job they do but what's important is that the job is fulfilling for them because they have the result in mind. The only hurdle is that they must be capable of performing that job so that they can contribute to society.

I belong to the second category. My mission is only one: I want to improve the quality of life for people in my country.

Now, this can have certain sub-missions. I can achieve that by contributing to different fields like working in an NGO and caring for the environment and planting more trees, or I can study psychology and become a therapist. Both will serve the same purpose that is making it a better society.

I think, when you find a mission, it becomes your essence, and then you don't think about it, you just act. Whatever I do now is in alignment with my mission— whether I do it by writing or by directly helping people.

Now if I study psychology and I have to heal people then it won't matter exactly where I am working. I could be a counselor in a school or in an office, both would eventually serve the same purpose.

Sometimes I feel completely incapable of loving people. I want to help them but I get irritated easily. I want them to talk to me and get better but I also want them to not talk to me because it's annoying to constantly console someone who has the same negative thoughts all the time.

Maybe that is why I've chosen hypnotherapy over conventional therapy. I can't sit and talk to people.

I need to go and study. Bye.

A short note: Because I was worried that I was losing who I was, I put up a piece of paper on the door of my cupboard in the bathroom. I have no time. I wake up at 5, sit down to study before I'm finished rubbing my eyes, then I stay at my desk till 12 at night. When I eat, it is in front of a clock. I only take 20 minutes for a bath. Every time I take a bathroom break, I write my thoughts. I just can't let them go. I can't put myself in a metaphorical coma for 2 months till my exams end. I already feel like I'm crushing my creativity, because I don't even have the time to feel. Something inside me is...dying, and if I let it, I will never forgive myself.

❄