a little ambition

(Original Post - March 2011)

“Hey Norah, what’s that building?”

We're driving past the university, and my wife wants to see if she remembers its name.

“Where?” Norah looks in the opposite direction.

“Out your window.” “Where?” “There.” “Oh… the una-versity. That’s where Daddy learned to be a teacher.” “Right.” A pause. “Hey Norah, what are you going to be when you grow up?” A longer pause. Actually, an extensive one. “Maybe…a fairy! ...Or a dentist. Or a doctor or a butterfly…” “Good choices.”

And they are.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. Actually, when you’re a kid, there’s no wanting to be something; you are going to be something. I was going to be an astronaut.

Then, I was going to be an Olympic medal-winning swimmer… a farmer, a scientist, a writer, or one of those guys who climb the telephone poles. As far as I know, I never wanted to be an imaginary creature or a magnificent winged insect. But then, maybe I didn’t have Norah’s imagination. Or ambition…

The tendency is for an adult to chuckle, rub the head of the kid and say with a smile, “Honey, you can’t be a fairy.” I almost did this. Then, I recalled how many times myself and my wife have told Norah that she can be anything she wants to be. If you start imposing limitations on the imagination and ambition of a three year old, what effect will this have by the time they reach their teens? So yes, if she wants to be a fairy, she’ll be a fairy. If she wants to be a butterfly, she’ll be a butterfly.

The average person entering the workforce now will change careers at least 5 times. Not jobs within a career, but careers. I preached this idea to my Career Development class a couple of years ago; the idea of positive uncertainty. You do not know what the future holds, nor do you need to. You just need to know what you want to do with it. What are you passionate about? To demonstrate this, I had them do an assignment whereby they wrote their own eulogy. I did the same. I wrote the words someone would speak of me when I passed away, hopefully many years from now. It was powerful, to say the least. And revealing. I had kids tell me that their eulogies included personal accomplishments that they’d never dreamed of attaining or even considering. Sometimes, we don’t let ourselves consider them.

Sometimes, we don’t let our kids consider them.

I now let myself consider everything. I love being a counsellor. I would love to be a chef. I would love to be a woodworker. And I’d give anything to be a writer.

My kids’ limitless imaginations and unknowable potential remind me daily of one big idea – we can be what we want to be.

If, some day, I sit in the front row and watch the world-class dancer that is my daughter spin with the magic of the fairy she portrays, or if I stand in an art gallery and lose myself in her self-portrait (the one where she’s painted herself with wings more breathtaking than any Monarch), I’ll know why she was able to achieve these things.

The people who love her told her that she could…

Short thought - Stop and ask yourself if there's a dream you've given up on. Seriously. Take a minute and think about it. If you were to live to be 100, what would that 100 year old person say to the 'present' you? Would any excuse you now offer for not pursuing that dream satisfy the 100 year old who missed that opportunity? "The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of the dream..."

- William Shakespeare