I’ve been putting off sharing this shitty update for a few days.

Because: pride.

(Get it? Lion? Pride? Eh? Eh?! Moving on.)

I’ve wanted to get into this PTA (physical therapist assistant) program for a bit now. Ya know, so I can play magical messiah, lay hands on people, and have them cry and shake and bow before me (‘cause that’s totally what it’s like). Back here in reality, I just remember what it was like working for four and a half years as a tech in a clinic. It was nice making those connections – looking at a problem and being able to offer potential solutions, constantly learning, having people appreciate something you did for them. ‘snice. So, anyway, I was going to apply this year – and admittedly I started the app process later than I should. But, still, when I found out last minute that there’s one, measly, stupid prerequisite course I dumbly didn’t realize I haven’t taken, I was horrified. A one credit obstacle – tauntingly situated between me and even being able to apply, much less get accepted.

Ridiculous. So, on Sunday evening, when this came to my attention prior to the Monday PTA info-sesh I was about to go to, I was so angry I thought my dome would explode in rage diarrhea. Why bother going? Why bother doing anything? Why live? For a good ten minutes, I turned into an angsty wallowy song a teenager’d listen to while pretending to carve hesitation marks into her arm with her mom’s leg razor that has protection wires over the blades.
Then I remembered something. This story. About a pair o’ millionaire brothers.

The start and end of this story is: 1.) They planned to be millionaires by their mid thirties. 2.) They did.

The middle of the story? They failed 17 times before reaching this success.

I think this’s a thing I tend to forget a lot: failure being a success stepping stone. I get too caught up in the disappointment of things not going “according to plan”. And I think that’s because a lot of spiritual advice I’ve gotten before says to “just accept it”. That’s good an’ all, but I don’t think being all wu-wei – going with the flow – and maintaining a success mindset have to be mutually exclusive. When I think of these dudes – and the fact they failed 17 times – something becomes painfully clear to me: to have all of those rapid-fire other attempts and failures and coming out super rich just a few decades into being alive, they had to have had a plan B. And then when Plan B became plan A, they had another plan B in place. Much like when we’re trying to change habits, we don’t just fckk off one habit and hope to overcome the visceral pull to revert or relapse with pixie dust we pull outta our asses. We replace it with something good. Similarly, when Plan A doesn’t go according to plan, we either quickly create or have ready a Plan B to help us forget what a fucking blow not getting our way is.

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(First step’s to buy your ticket. Second’s to have your raft ready when SHTF… or SHTGiantIceMass.)

This may sound a bit Tony Robbins or whatever, but here’s the cool thing that happened:

Before I’d stopped wallowing, I managed to say “fcck it, I’m not gonna do the info-sesh”, cried a little, and then told my mom off when she tried to be chipper and comfort me. Then, that bit of self awareness I’ve been cultivating through meditation suddenly washed over me. And I remembered those rich bros from the anecdote above. And how they had an arsenal of backup plans. And I, like someone who had dick cheese between their ears instead of brains, didn’t even have one. So, I decided to make one. Which started with all of four words: “I’ll apply next year.” Then that thought blossomed into, “I’ll have more time to ace that entry test, take extra credits which’ll drive my competitive points up, and get extra clinic hours which will also make the admissions realize I’m as awesome on paper as I am IRL” Then other “ain’t so bad” thoughts arose “I can get extra cash from whatever clinic I work at as a tech…” After that string of Plan B thoughts I had, I went into that info-session even though I can’t apply for this year. And I’m so glad I did, because the assistant dean stayed after, talked with me, we laughed (because I’m enchanting, obviously – just…. not enchanting enough to bypass a ridiculous pre-req), and then we got on a first name basis. Plus they’ll know how serious I am by next admission round since I plan to stay in close touch during the coming year’s pre-application process for next year.

Very close touch.

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Y’know, all this kerfuffle about becoming a PTA may seem kinda eyerolly (“dream big, Ash”….“it’s not even a real doctor”), but I’ve weighed my options and decided – I could probably get into PT school just as easily as PTA school. But I don’t want to. I don’t want the extra responsibility or to deal with medical malpractice insurance. I’ve seen what that stress does firsthand. The PTAs I know look so much happier than the PTs I know – which is what I really want. Enough money to be comfortable, not ostentatious. I don’t need a Porsche. I need peace of mind. That’s what’s most important for me. That’s the real wealth behind a “millionaire mindset”. It’s about being open to several paths you believe will make you happy. A list of goal you want enough to be willing to work hard for – and plenty more of the same on deck. That way, failure’s never failure.

Just a tweak in life’s itinerary.