Personal Narrative- Life as a Journey Essay

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Personal Narrative- Life as a Journey

The journey of life follows a predetermined pattern; we evolve from needing influence and guidance to finally reaching that point where our lives are up to us. I consider myself very lucky up to this point in my journey. Some people become sidetracked and wind up on a far different course than initially planned, but the detours I made have only assisted in embellishing the individual instead of devouring it.

According to Freud a person's most important period to grow personality ranges from birth to six years. In that span my biggest influences came from my family. When I think of that time before kindergarten, the single most important person to my development was my grandmother Carmen. She
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I hadn't shown up to bowling that morning so he called my house then came to the hospital. Nobody made him come to see me so quickly but he did. I will never forget the look in his face as he stared down at me. Hopefully every young person can look at two loving parents for guidance and help. I know how fortunate it is that I live with both of my natural parents, and that they both want the best for me. My parents embedded the values I cherish today into my spirit: the difference between right and wrong, the correct way to deal with anger, the importance of dedication and hard work in life. Those seem like cliques yet society refuses to hold those basic principles sacred anymore. I consider it an honor and privilege to have parents with common sense and self-worth.

Other things have also affected the path I continue on today. Music certainly opened doors and unfounded emotions. Playing the saxophone, conducting, and even composing allowed this aestheticism to flow out from the depths of my being. Without becoming an artist I certainly would not understand my potential or the self-discipline reaching a particular goal entails. Listening to poetry and music has helped to forge the Rick of today. The sonnets of William Shakespeare and symphonies of Beethoven express desires and feelings that I have yet to even discover. Without those outlets to describe the indescribable, I would probably be a more isolated and confused person than I am today.

Now that I have
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