Marking a page.

My friend Ryan is a rock star.

I don't say this to be funny. Or in a, "Man, that guy is so cool: he's a total 'rock star'," sort of way.

My friend Ryan is actually a professional singer/songwriter/musician with his own band. He travels the country touring. He records albums. He has fans and a website. This past summer, he opened for Dave Matthews Band with Martin Sexton, an artist who he has pretty much admired for his entire career and who then went on to produce Ryan's band's newest album.

Yeah, he's the real deal. His following is huge and still growing and I couldn't be happier for him.

The funny part is a short decade ago Ryan and I had classes together in college. We were both English majors. Both strong writers. Both contemplating and waxing poetic about the same books and poetry.

Ryan was a year above me. I remember him as always being a little quiet but quite humorous. It always looked like he was thinking. We have mutual friends but, to be honest, I don't know him all that well. For a few minutes I thought I had a crush on him after seeing him out while we were both living in Boston. But it turned out my fondness was misplaced and I was not so much into him, but more just attracted to his drive and ambition. He was pursuing exactly what he wanted to do.

Professionally, he's my bookmark.

Ever since he graduated, Ryan has been relentless in his attempt to turn music, his real passion, into his career. And he has done so at whatever the cost. I remember reading his blog and hearing about how he had to decide what bills to pay certain months: would he have insurance or pay for one of his utilities? Would his rent be covered? And would he be able to cover the costs of recording his music?

Where I had taken one road--a steady paycheck albeit in different jobs that were always just skimming the surface of where I really wanted to be--Ryan had always kept his course of playing music no matter what kind of sacrifices that meant in the present. My first job was as a publicist in New York City. If I am remembering correctly, at that same time Ryan was working as a substitute teacher and earnestly playing small gigs at the local Pizzeria Uno. Fast forward a while and while I was working as an academic advisor to a caseload of a thousand (quite delusional) students, he was playing the Somerville Theater to a crowd of almost a thousand people and then (quite deservedly so) partying until the wee hours of the morning.

Our paths could not be more different and I am still excited to see just exactly where his path ultimately takes him. Still, a few years ago I realized that professionally I'd sort of adopted him as a creative person I could aspire to emulate. I figured if he started off writing poetry and eventually wrote songs and albums, maybe I, too, could turn my own words into stories and books. If he could start with a couple of notes or a phrase and turn that into something for people to sing along to, maybe I could get an audience of readers interested in what I have to say as well. He had taken his creative ideas and one-by-one turned them into something tangible. I was left eager to do the same.

If my professional life is a book, Ryan's example marks a place and serves as a reminder of what is truly possible when passion and talent are paired with an unwavering, laser-like focus. He is a reference point, albeit one that is still moving towards his own destiny, that I can look to from time to time as I navigate my own course. Let's face it: everyone wants to run away and join the circus and do that one thing that they've always wanted to do. But does anyone ever check to see if "the circus" is accepting applications? Or even try to get up and walk the tightrope in the first place? Ryan has walked and continues to walk the line and I am often inspired to do the same in my own creative career thanks to his efforts.

I have had a lot of different interests career-wise. And recently I realized that my tendency towards multitasking has bled over into my professional career path. Yes, it has allowed me to get a lot done in each job I've had but have I really gotten anything accomplished when it comes to my ultimate goals? I have to wonder, was I wrong to play it safe? And by keeping so many of our options open professionally have many of us ended up closing the door on the one thing we were really meant to do?

Career paths have many twists and turns. Instead of turning me in circles, I am hopeful that my earnest search could send me on my own way and possibly turn me into the best professional version of myself. There is a simple beauty to the way a child approaches the world. They get consumed in play and focus their energy and enthusiasm on only one thing at a time. Instead of trying to do everything at once, I am trying to just be like a child, taking my writing line-by-line and occasionally glancing back at my creative friend along the way for a little perspective and inspiration.