Adulthood. As this past year commenced, and stress began to pile onto my shoulders, I began to look for peace in the mess that resembled my life.
That lead me back to the laziest of social habits I picked up my freshman year of college.
Although, my focus was on what I needed to accomplish, I was constantly trying to find a way to flee the stress that I knew surrounded it. I was always searching for an escape.
I felt the only way to clear my mind was to put it in a fog. I wanted to numb my existence rather than deal with what was approaching to lessen the burden I feared associated with it.
I was adamantly searching for peace and security to reassure the choices I was making for the future.
Peace then established itself through the LSAT.
The prospect that law school could give me the security that I needed for the rest of my life created an ideal I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into.
I visited a handful of schools, attended open houses and meetings, and joined the Prelaw Society at Oakland.
I loved knowing I could use a degree in law to potentially help people, and thus, I began studying for what would be the biggest test of my life.
The determinate for my entire future.
It felt like a trap—growing up.
I spent countless nights debating my fate with the best of my friends.
Always discussing potential this or that, over dinner, bottles of wine or a few gin and tonics, to feel free, but somehow in control.
I had a plan set in motion, yet I was still unhappy.
The uncertainty behind drowning myself in a $50,000 a year debt to pursue a tight and narrowly scoped career was inspiring me to do the exact opposite, and lead me to reevaluate where my happiness always thrived unrestrained.
I sat down with a piece of my heart.
The human form of it manifested in the opposite sex.
My reflection of sorts, though like all reflections it is not truly ourselves that we see in front of us but the opposite, and opposite he was.
He predetermined his future so early in life that it was littered with expansive goals and dreams average people only fantasized about.
While journeying towards one, he reignited the love I had for music months before this encounter, and music was what he reaffirmed was missing in my life.
The combination of words and beats and melodies completely immersed me into another realm.
As a child, nothing felt better than how certain sounds could alter my entire mood, and writing to clear my mind ran deep into my youth.
Music was the bottle before I hit 21. It was the legal marijuana and countless french fries I loved to inhale.
It was something I had the ability to create leisurely and without restriction. It channeled my strength in writing and love for sounds, all with the power to potentially create a platform that could reach millions.
Finally, I knew where my peace had always been.
August 31, 2001 - "Monday is Labor Day. It is a Holiday that honors all working people. All jobs are important. When I grow up, I'd like to be a singer."
My years at Oakland University have always been hit with bumps, swerves and curves as any path to success can emulate. Rome wasn’t built overnight, after all.
Although those derailments seemed blatant to my demise, they’ve created a better, stronger, and more prepared version of myself ready for what’s to come.
It only took an evaluation of what success really entailed to make all the difference.
Peace was not a conquest in need of searching.
It was the purest token in my heart, buried beneath self-doubt, fear, anxiety, and confusion.
All it took was an afternoon of fro-yo to figure that out.
