growing up

Do you remember when adults would ask you as a child or teenager, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ No child ever understands that the question is really just about what career he or she wants to pursue. That question is loaded with unintended meaning – whatever career you choose, it defines you in the eyes of society.

When I was about seven years old, my father’s medical school textbooks had entranced me. The world of human physiology and anatomy was mind-blowing to me at that age. I decided that I wanted to be a cardiovascular surgeon. I’m fairly certain most adults thought I had no idea what I was talking about. This career dream stayed with me until I was about twelve years old. By then, puberty had started and my adoration for the circulatory system was not interesting to my peers. My dreams began to change. It’s strange how often we look to the opinions of others to dictate the paths we choose in life.

I have a list I’ve written over the past year, of things I want to study and fields of work I believe I’d not only enjoy, but that I would be a credit to each respective industry. Chef. Counselor or therapist … psychologist? Dietitian. Graphic designer. Massage therapist. Museum curator. NGO worker (aid worker). Nurse. Photo-journalist or news editor. University professor. Wilderness guide (NOLS, I love you!). Yoga instructor. Looking at that list, I get a little crest-fallen. Some of these seem impractical or outright impossible. The course catalog for my local community college is here next to me as I write; it’s dreadfully worn out, as I have flipped through the pages many times a day for the past six months. Highlighters and pens have marked dozens of classes I’d love to take. Sadly, until becoming unemployed, I didn’t qualify for financial aid. It was a huge struggle to get back into school – I’d tried several years to do so, only to find I couldn’t afford to keep going. I kept dropping out last minute. I finally managed to get through a semester last autumn and it was an incredible feeling. I felt like I was finally making something of myself. My job history is one that is often frowned upon. That childhood query of ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ rings in my memory and makes me ashamed of years of hard work that I should be proud of, even if it’s not what I necessarily wanted.

I woke up this morning thinking about what I really want to do with my time, with my life. I may not be in the best financial position right now, but being unemployed is the perfect clean slate. I want to have that starry-eyed hope of my seven-year-old self. I want to start over, and thank heavens I’m still young enough to where it shouldn’t be devastating to make drastic changes …

know thy monsters

Since my divorce, I have a large plush Domo-kun that I cuddle with at night. Don’t judge me.

Related tangent: Two things are inevitable if I am tired enough to crash into bed immediately upon returning home from work … firstly, I will somehow manage to sleep in past five o’clock in the morning (my normal wakeup time), and secondly, I will wake up confused (it will take me a good ten minutes to figure out where I am … not fun).

Bearing the above in mind, cuddling with Domo-kun at night sets me up for injury. How? The first thing I will see with my hazy vision upon awakening in the morning is a red mouth full of pointy teeth. There is a strong chance of my fuzzy brain over-reacting to that. I get a scare that lasts for about twenty seconds – it promptly ends when I fall out of bed and hit my head on something. Hard. I will then realize I’ve just been frightened by my cuddly little monster.

Oh dear.

I reflect on my life a lot … I find what lessons I can from past choices in order to improve what I do with my future. In this process, I find many metaphors for life through little things in my day. Getting freaked out by Domo-kun upon occasion is no exception to this. I think everyone has a ‘cuddly little monster’ or two (or more) they cling to – bad habits, fears, unhealthy relationships, etc. We find comfort in what we know, even if it’s painful or hurtful, rather than to risk venturing into the unknown or something different than our norm. We climb back into bed each night and hold close these monsters, feeling soothed by their familiar presence and lulled into unconsciousness from the reality we’re cradling in our arms.

Food for thought, cooked up for my own brain more than others, but I thought I’d share the love. I need to think about what monsters I take to bed each night, and how to send them packing …

what do you want most?

I keep up with the blogs of friends about once every couple of weeks or so, and recently found an older post on Daniel’s blog that really pricked at my heart. I would encourage you to read through that entry, and consider these questions he poses:

Is this what you want now or what you want most? There is a very large difference between the two… does this, whatever this is, take you towards what you want now or what you want most? If your most is worth it, then you will change your now’s.

In reading through everything he wrote and pondering over those questions, so much clarity came from thinking in terms of what I want now versus what I want most in life. There are a lot of hard questions I’ve had to answer over the past year or so, and my answers to those all come back to what I want most … the things I am willing to pursue over other, more immediate things. Those things I want most I am willing to make sacrifices for, because they will bring the most joy to me in the end. There’s a liberation to be found in knowing what you want out of life, what your goals are. It makes all other decisions that much easier to choose when the time comes.