Mozart was a genius, but he struggled like an average person during early twenties. He had to work to make ends meet. Underpaid and unsatisfied by his average performances, he felt a burning desire to devote more time and energy to his art. So after a period of doubt and thinking, that's exactly what he did. He quit his job and began what turned out to be the most creative period of his life.

Even if you never hope to reach Mozart’s level of mastery, you may relate to his need to break free from convention (传统). Maybe you’ve done everything right — stood out at school, and got a high-paying job — but you’re tired of being just like everyone else. Maybe you long to achieve something that is unmistakably you.

What, then, is holding you back? Rich Karlgaard, the publisher of Forbes magazine and author of Late Bloomers, argues that our culture’s obsession (痴迷) with early achievement discourages us from going after what we love. Instead of having varied interests, studying widely, and taking our time — essentials (要素) for self-discovery — we’re encouraged to pass tests, become specialists right away, and pursue safe and secure careers. As a result, most of us end up choosing professional excellence over personal achievement, and often we lose ourselves in the process.

As you move forward, there are a few things to keep in mind. First, it’s never too late to “become” yourself. Aristotle, for example, didn’t fully devote himself to writing and philosophy until he was nearly 50. There are also benefits to taking a long, winding path to achievement. Remember that age usually brings wisdom, self-knowledge, and creativity. This is one reason the average age of founders of high-growth start-ups is 45.

If you ever get stuck, think of Joanne, a talented and creative woman who bounced from job to job throughout her twenties. She felt like a total failure. But she took that feeling of hopelessness and chose to do what she’d always wanted to do: write fantasy novels for children. As she would later recount, “I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was.”

You’ve probably heard of her. Her pen name is J.K. Rowling.

Now get to work.

Jenny had a hearing problem when she was four and a half years old. When she was seven, she had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis (幼年型类风湿性关节炎). She could not put pressure on the heels of her feet, so she walked on tiptoes. All through her school, Jenny suffered, yet never complained. She wore a smile on her face, a song on her lips, and love and acceptance of others.

Jenny is a beautiful blonde (金发女郎), with warm brown eyes. She never competed in a sport. She could not even take part in a gym class.

She was totally acceptable, popular, and funny. She tried her best to attend every football game, and cheer the team on. Wherever she went, she was carrying a pillow which could ease the pain when she sat down. Then came her senior year and she would be considered for scholarships. However, school activities, especially sports, could often mean the difference between receiving an award or losing out.

So Jenny came to a decision; she began to apply for the high school football coach. She begged, pleaded and promised. Finally the coach gave in. Jenny even became the manager of the Garrett High School Football Team at last.

She carried big buckets of water to her teammates. She bandaged knees and ankles before every game. She gave encouraging talks. It turned out to be one of the best years for Garrett High School Football Team, in its twenty-five-year history.

When asked why the team was winning all the games, one linebacker (中后卫) explained, “Well, when you’ve been knocked down, and you can’t seem to move,   you look up and see Jenny Lewis, walking hard across the field, carrying her buckets and pillow. It makes anything the rest of us may suffer seem pretty insignificant.”

At the Senior Awards ceremony, Jenny received a number of scholarships to College of Charleston. She was praised to be the first successful girl written in Garrett High School history.

A letter written by Charles Darwin in 1875 has been returned to the Smithsonian Institution Archives(档案馆) by the FBI after being stolen twice.

“We realized in the mid-1970s that it was missing,” says Effie Kapsalis, head of the Archives. “It was noted as missing and likely taken by an intern (实习生), from what the FBI is telling us. Word got out that it was missing when someone asked to see the letter for research purposes,” and the intern put the letter back. “The intern likely took the letter again once nobody was watching it.”

Decades passed. Finally, the FBI received a clue that the stolen letter was located very close to Washington, D.C. Their art crime team got back the letter but were unable to accuse the suspect because the time of limitations had ended. The FBI worked closely with the Archives to determine that the letter was both genuine and exactly belonged to Smithsonian.

The letter was written by Darwin to thank an American geologist, Dr. Ferdinand Vandeveer Hayden, for sending him copies of his research into the geology of the area that would become Yellowstone National Park.

The letter is in fairly good condition, in spite of being out of the care of trained museum staff for so long. “It was luckily in good shape,” says Kapsalis, “and we just have to do some minor things in order to be able to unfold it. It has some glue on it that has colored it slightly, but nothing that will prevent us from using it. One of our goals is to get items of high research value or interest to the public online.”

It would be difficult to steal things like the letter. “Archiving practices have changed greatly since the 1970s,” says Kapsalis, “and we keep our high value objects in a safe that I can’t even reach.”