Life often gets in the way. More specifically, work and the day-to-day monotony of household chores and the humdrum of adult obligations often prevent us from doing the things that get us excited; the things that put a sparkle in our eye. The things that, as children, would bring us pure and unadulterated joy.
Unless you are doing the exact job you dreamed of as a child, which God bless you if you are, you are likely doing something you enjoy and may get you excited from time-to-time, but never imagined doing as a kid.
This is me.
Alternatively you may be one of the unfortunate who are doing a job they completely detest. If it’s the latter, you may wish to rethink your path forward. In either scenario, you may not be spending your days doing things you were once passionate about and because of the frenzy of being a working parent, there is also a chance that any recollection of such passion has been long forgotten.
This was me until recently.
My kids are getting older and we are now officially exiting the toddler-stage. It’s an exciting time because their creativity is starting to truly develop. My eldest, in particular, can now read and write and over these past few months has been able to bring me back to a place I had erased from my mind. A place of joy and wonder that I had unfortunately buried under my 9:00-5:00 desk-job: writing stories.
One rainy Sunday afternoon my son asked me if we could make a book together. He would draw the pictures and jointly we would write the story. As we sat at the kitchen table piecing it all together, I could see the sparkle in his little brown eyes and it brought me back to my 7 year old self. I suddenly remembered how exciting it was to create a world all on your own, and was surprised at how enthusiastic I became to use my imagination in ways no job had every allowed me to.
This was when I realized how caught up I was in all the things that I had to do that over time I had forgotten about the things that I liked to do. The things that are deep to my core and are part of my very essence and being.
After years of being suppressed by “life”, my creative juices are starting to flow once again and I am finally taking the time write the novel I had always wanted to write. All of this thanks to my children.
So what’s the moral of the story? Put down that laundry basket and save the closet cleaning for another day. Take the time to think back on what truly drives you. We shouldn’t be forced to bury our passions under life’s obligations. Life is too short.
Go find your inner child and let her dictate your path forward.