Remember being two?
Life was simple. Eat, drink, cry, play, laugh, sleep, learn…
If you ask two year olds what they want to be when they grow up, they’d ignore you, choosing the seemingly boring cardboard box in the corner, rather than engaging in conversation regarding the rest of their life. Can you blame them?
To two year olds, life is something new and wonderful. It’s about discovering how to get the precious family ornaments out to play with, without getting caught. It’s learning how to use their bodies to climb, and how far they can lean without falling over and getting hurt.
No two year olds in their right minds would choose to grow up, and make something of their selves yet. Get jobs and mortgages? I don’t think so!
However, somewhere along the way, we were told to stop being, and start doing. You must decide what it is you want to do with the rest of your life, and go do it! Why?
When I was six, my teacher asked everyone in the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. The usual responses of “fireman” and “doctor” and the like popped up. When she got to me, I, proudly and innocently, told her the truth: I wanted to be happy!
“You can’t just ‘be happy’. What do you want to do?” was her unexpected retort. Talk about confusing!
I politely informed her that I would do whatever I found made me happy. For some obscure reason she could not, and would not, accept this. Being happy is not something you do! After going around in circles so long that my head hurt, I gave in, deciding upon a career as an actress.
Although she tried to point out that it was a dream rather than a real career goal, she let it go, and carried on with class. Eventually. Imagine if I had of told her that the role of fire-truck was looking quite promising!
This notion of hers about not being happy as an adult stuck in my head like an arrow. Now that I’m older, I can reflect upon it. Perhaps if she had of been happy herself, she could have accepted, maybe even commended, my decision to be happy. After all, it was my true goal.
If only I had realised that it was just a small taste of what life had in store me down the road.
All during the teenage years, I was barraged with adults wanting me to chose a career. I was constantly being told at high school that “these were the all important years,” and that “decisions you make now will affect the rest of your life!” With my hormones raging at full steam, and boys becoming the subject and objects of my affections, the last thing on my mind was choosing a ‘life goal’.
I wanted to establish and parade my independence for the entire world to see. I needed to rebel against whatever system was around me. I had to prove to the world that I could think for myself, and that my mind was my own (after I checked to see what my friends thought about it all first of course!).
Struggling with all these mixed emotions, and high expectations that were put upon me, life looked as if it may be getting serious.
At 16, most of my friends had succumbed to the fact that they had to opt for a profession. Most of them did, surprise, surprise, what their parents always knew they’d do. Anna was going to be a teacher, like her Mum. Karl was going to be a doctor, like his Dad, and even his father before him. Douglas was to be a police officer, just as soon as he grew out of the phase that his parents always said he was going through.
So many psychic parents out there, it’s a wonder any of us ever fell down without them standing underneath to catch us intuitively!
I, however, had no idea what so ever. Not even a notion of an idea. I knew what I didn’t want, and I knew that it had to make me happy, but that was all I knew.
My twenties came hard and astoundingly fast. My friends had gone on to university, careers, and, in most cases, other friendships. We were now all considered adults.
As adults, we seem to spend so much time miserable, trying to do the ‘done thing.’ Following the pack in that almighty search to ‘achieve something with your life.’ Trying desperately to please everyone around you, but telling them that you’re ‘looking out for number one.’ You become a self-proclaimed ‘strong and independent person,’ yet all the while long for that one special person who’ll include you in their life and take care of you.
