William Shakespeare once said, “The whole world’s a stage.” I think it was him.  Well, somebody said it at least.  You’ve heard it before.  You’ve probably seen it on a bumper sticker attached to a KIA.

My parents raised me on soy milk and gluten free, before we knew that dairy and gluten full was bad.  Set TV hours built into a complicated barter system, and a fierce fear of anything illegal.  It wasn’t until adulthood that I developed my bad habits – a propensity for sugary drinks filled with caffeine to keep my eyes focused on tasks that weren’t captivating enough in themselves; an addiction to bad frozen pizza to fill the void in my heart through a growth in my belly after too many unfulfilling, long days; an inability to turn off the television despite only being able to stomach a steady stream of rotten reality shows; and well, still nothing illegal with no intentions to start.  My parents did raise me right after all.

Everywhere we go, we are performing.  For too long, my stage was only the workplace.  The strangely restrictive confines of a normal 9-5 built around bureaucracy and spinning wheels, a stage with 9-foot, tiled ceilings and spot lights replaced with the glow from lights that give off a strange, soul drinking buzz with the occasional dimmer thrown in.

I’m guessing you could ask any person what it means to be an adult.  For every generation or day of the week, there is probably another answer as truthful as the last one.  For me, today, being an adult is a choice between giving up (negative) and conforming or giving up (positive) and refusing to compromise who you really are with all the hiccups that brings.

Less than a decade into the workforce, I’ve got some serious bad habits to break, but more importantly, I’ve got some big dreams I can’t shake.  This process will no doubt be long, tedious, and full of embarrassing mistakes along the way.  I’ve got to shed the inhibitors I’ve taken on to become the person I need to be.

If you’re reading this, you are here early on for the start of a construction project.  I’m building a stage.  Much bigger than an open office cubicle.  Much bigger than an auditorium, street corner, or sports arena.

I’ve got some big goals.  Write a novel.  Write another one.  Write another one. Write another one.  Maybe throw in a musical despite the fact my musical talent peaked as a second chair saxophone in high school.  Draft a screen play that turns one of those novels into a movie.  Win a Tony.  Inspire a theme park ride.  Make a boy on the other side of the world laugh through my words.  Make a girl I’ve never met shed a single tear because a sentence I wrote reminded her of an impactful moment she needed reminding.  Turn to an acknowledgement section at the back of a hardcover book with my name in it that recognizes all the people that stood with me along the way.  My family, my friends, those that challenged me to be great, and those that championed my cause along with me.  Write a last page that makes someone stop their lives for 1 minute after the story is done and savor the sweetest moment of peace in the world – the silence that fills the air as a good book is closed for the last time.  Be proud of the impact I’ve made to the world.

The whole world is a performance venue.  It’s time to build a stage large enough to fit it.

Pro tip: Buy your tickets now because box office prices are about to soar.