The Disillusion Point

In perspective there is the vanishing point.  In human endeavor there is the disillusion point.

All of the lines of sight tend to converge on a single point somewhere behind the eye.  The parallel lines of a track, the vertical lines of a building, and the edges of a box tend to converge.  They don’t, of course.  The track never narrows as the train proceeds, the building doesn't taper, and the box has a cubic volume based on its measurements.

In a human endeavor, as effort is spent but enthusiasm wanes because progress is not perceived, enthusiasm diminishes and approaches disillusion.  Once that is reached the endeavor is abandoned and replaced.  The advantages of success in the endeavor don’t diminish but the perceived possibility of gaining that success diminishes to the point that further effort doesn't seem worth it.

There are a long list of my personal endeavors that have been selected and discarded along the way.  Some discarded because they were found to be shallow and not worthy of pursuit; others because they became passé, and still others because the incremental gain of pursuing them was not worth the effort required.

There is also an impressive list of endeavors that have been successfully achieved.  These tend to be projects that had an inception, a period of applied effort, and a point at which they could be considered finished.

Endeavors of a different kind are subject to the phenomenon of the disillusion point.  They are generally in the skills arena, stage and film acting, voice-over performing, writing, digital technology, painting, sketching, dancing, pool, athletics of one kind or another, horseback riding, management training, the French language, fitness, and asset maintenance.

Some people, in whose company I had the pleasure of being, had an enthusiasm for life and what they were doing that pushed the disillusion point back toward the horizon.  Others were less optimistic and discarded endeavors with ease.  

Both of these types of people never reached the top of the heap but the former were happily engaged in the pursuit of excellence even when they realized that they were never going attain more than a modicum of it.  They chose their path and then stuck to it until a destination was reached where they could objectively say that they’d done it.

Those who wouldn't/ couldn't stick it out were generally jaundiced in their outlook on life and living, more negative than positive and especially so when they reached the end of the period of initial enthusiasm for a pursuit.  They changed the emphasis of their life.  In education they changed majors or never graduated from college.  In jobs they changed careers often before reaching success in any one of them.  Content with rationalizing their efforts by saying, “It wasn't for me.”

There seem to be two extreme points on a continuum; complete failure and the pinnacle of success.  Most of us operate somewhere on this continuum and, if we are cognizant of it, know when to say, “I've done this.”

Now I am looking at what I’ve done with my time and my life and wondering if there is something else I should be/could be doing that would lead to a more satisfactory outcome.  There’s still lifetime enough left to do just about anything of which I am physically capable.

My first glance is at the endeavors with which I am currently involved.  There are only two of them that are considered the aggregate of my activities, acting and writing.  

Then two more recreational endeavors, golf and pool.  I would like to mention another activity that brings me much joy, riding horses, but in my heart of hearts I know that I will probably never have unlimited access to a horse.

One can’t help but notice that money doesn't make the list.  Making money was never a goal for me.  This may be one of the reasons I’m writing this piece; money has been in the background all my life.  Whatever I brought home, that’s what we used to live.  I was always able to get whatever we needed including college for the kids.

My parents barely scraped by but thanks to my mom’s cleverness they left a nice sum of money to my sister and me, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  This was due to the fact that she worked outside the home for about ten years before reaching age 65 and saved every penny of it.  She achieved her goal.

Then when our kids started coming one after the other, it was all we could do to make ends meet.  It wasn't until we went to Houston and a high paying corporate job that things started easing up for us.  Even now we are comfortable but far from wealthy.

There is a question being posed here; should I pursue “making money” as an endeavor?  It’s worth some effort to answer that. 

What do I have that would allow me to be successful at such an endeavor? I have all the personal attributes necessary to be successful at whatever I decide to do.  I have a source of capital that would finance any reasonable venture; I have intelligence and knowledge; I have access to people who could put me on the right track.

What holds me back?  Taking on that endeavor would require dedication to it on a routine basis and perhaps even at the expense of my acting and writing unless it was they that made the money. 

Actively marketing my talents would require me to contact others and convince them that what I am proposing would be profitable to them when I may not be all that convinced of the quality of my talent.  Or find products that are desirable and focus on marketing them.  Although my history has been to doubt even the best of products that I've represented.

This last sentiment lays bare a personal, fatal flaw.  In spite of objective evidence of performance and accomplishment to the contrary; I don’t feel that what I have to offer is of monetary value.  Unless and until this is remedied there will be no personal financial gain associated with my performance.  I am at the disillusion point.