Desire, the Great Equilizer

Everyone has a story, an origin from which they develop a relentless passion to accomplish something great or influence profound change. From the ashes of their past they’ve risen, and still they demand something greater than themselves. It’s the superhero moment when everything changes and will never again be the same. That moment came for me in January when my mom passed away, but my journey does not begin there. Like many of us, it comes from something deeper.

When I was 10 years old, I lived with my mom and older brother in a mobile home park in Flint, Michigan. We lacked basic comforts and necessities, but I didn’t understand the difference between rich vs poor, weak vs strong, or much of failure vs success. One thing I understood clearly, even from early childhood, was that I had to escape the grips of my environment and get to Los Angeles, CA...somehow...someway. An easy enough goal to achieve, it seems, but tell that to an average person growing up amidst paralyzing poverty in a town where hopelessness roamed like stray dogs in the streets—free and abundant.

I can recall with some clarity the depth of this obsession as I set into motion the details of my exodus, replayed over and over in my mind. When I was 17, reality would give way to the vacuum of my imagination and I made my first attempt to escape when I met the manager of a traveling sales crew. With the resistant support of my mom who had to sign papers so I could work as a minor, I joined the crew and left with 20 bucks in my pocket and a back pack full of books and blank journals.

I spent the summer on the East Coast selling magazine subscriptions door-to-door, making just enough money to eat while we traveled to a new city every other night, a new state every week. All the while my hopes and dreams remained intensely focused on California.

When you travel among strangers, it’s easy to remain unseen. I made friends quickly, but I had never felt so alone. My first experience away from home proved itself more frightening than enlightening and I found myself missing the one place I wanted most to get away from. So, after four months of sleeping in vans and seedy hotels, I swallowed my first super sized serving of humble pie and returned home to Flint. Still, the obsession remained.

Almost 20 years have passed since my first grand adventure and it was certainly not the last. I may have taken the “scenic” route to get to where I am today, but the end result is the same. Here I am, 35 years old, reflecting on the seemingly impossible task of finding myself in spite of poverty, abuse and severe illness. The lessons I’ve learned along the way have given me the strength to say goodbye to mom, to live the wonderful life she always wanted for me and to create as a means to inspire change in others.

It doesn’t matter where you come from, it’s where you’re going that promises futures told. No matter what the odds or how difficult the journey, all it takes its desire. Focus on your dreams with vast and vivid plans and above all else, Never. Give. UP!