Children are often asked, “What do you want to be when you
grow up?” Well, I’m twenty-seven and I’m still trying to figure that out. My
son is six years old and he wants to be an archaeologist when he grows up, or some days he will say that he wants to become Gandalf when he grows up. He
has all sorts of wide-eyed dreams that many more “practical” persons would deem
unrealistic. Okay, so the Gandalf dream is probably not going to happen, but the archaeology thing is a definite possibility. The point is, he is too young to have been tainted by the world. He knows what
he wants, and to him it is not only entirely possible but also completely
probable. I can vaguely remember what that felt like. I remember a time when
what I wanted out of life what just that - what I WANTED. It had nothing to do
with what other people expected, or what was logical, or what was the norm.
Once upon a time dreams were real… until they weren’t anymore. We often refer
to this as “growing up”, which makes me wonder: What the hell is so great about
being a grown-up anyway? Sometimes I look at myself and I realize that there is
a part of me that has disappeared, died even. Perhaps there should have been a
funeral, because I feel as if I am mourning – grieving that part of myself that
genuinely believed I could achieve the things I wanted. Listening to my son
talk about all the things he wants to do makes me feel both incredibly excited
and incredibly sad. I am excited for him because I want him to have those
experiences he wants to have, and I believe it is entirely possible because I
haven’t given up on his dreams. However, the sad part is that I am aware that I
seem to have given up on mine. I truly believe that the most effective way to
teach your children is by example, which is terrifying. How do I teach him to
go after what he wants when I didn’t? Of course, the things I want have changed
over the years because I’ve changed, but I still don’t find myself really
chasing after what I want. I have become comfortable with letting things pass
me by. I am accustomed to dreaming, waking up, and then forgetting what it was
I had dreamt about. So, as I slowly try and allow myself to hang onto dreams
again perhaps I may start to figure out what it is I want to be when I grow up. Right
now the best answer I can give is this:
I
think when I grow up I want to be more like my son.
