I Wanted to Be an Astronaut.
Mike Rowe's article about passion reminded me about the first time I said I wanted to be an astronaut. It was my Kindergarten teacher (aptly named: Mrs. Gardener) who asked us all about what we wanted to be for Halloween. For me, there was no hesitation, I wanted to be an astronaut. I loved space and spaceships and "going boldly". I remember getting an astronaut costume and proudly walking door to door with my mom and dad in the neighborhood, getting candy and declaring my dream upfront to strangers and neighbors.
I wore this same costume for several years. The last time I could wear it, my mask was cracked and faded, and my suit was a shrunken, faded mess. I drew pictures of rocketships, and aliens and planets and got in trouble for it in school because my mind was elsewhere. I followed the last moon landing with my dad, Apollo 17, where my heroes drove cars on the moon. I kept my dream alive.
When I was old enough I found out what it took to be an astronaut. Apparently, you had to be great at math, and physics.
I was never good at math, but I could learn.
Moreover, you needed perfect 20-20 vision. I had acute astigmatism. My vision died in the eye-doctor's office. What killed my vision were my eyes.
Roger, sorry, you can't be an astronaut anymore.
We humans need to be honest about who we are, we need to make sure our gifts and skills match what we are trying to do. We can't always do this. The world is a messy, chaotic mess. We are asked and coerced to do and study things that don't interest us. We are asked to work at jobs that don't inspire us. We are told to fix our beds. The whole world is full of people with this exact predicament.
If you can follow your dream you are one of the elite. You probably come from a rich family. You don't need to think of where your next meal is going to be for your belly or worse, your children's bellies. You have training, time and resources available to you to follow your dreams. Well, what about the rest of the world? Is this advice really fair?
I think it's a little cruel.
It's cruel and elitist. It's a first-world vocation. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is our mantra. Was it the mantra of George Washington's slaves?
If you think, everyone in this world will be able to follow their passion and have their dream-job, then you are a little kindergarten kid with faulty vision.
What would be better?
Whatever you do, put your passion into it. Sprinkle your expertise over the mundane jobs you have to do day to day. Sing spirituals in the cotton fields.
Let your DNA be evident in all that you do and you will find that it's enough. Just barely enough, but it's enough.
Put your DNA into everything you do. This is not THE solution to all life's mysteries, no, not by a longshot, but it will help you get up in the morning. It will help you face the traffic, and smile and care for people where you work.
I am not saying don't have dreams. I think it's impossible NOT to have dreams. They are the stuff of wonder, born out a creative drive in all of us and they can be a source of encouragement. They make this 'working though this life' tolerable.
I couldn't be an astronaut, but I could draw about being one. I could write stories about their adventures. I could study Mandarin and travel to China and be the explorer that I have always wanted to be.
My work today is filled with faded and cracked and tired tasks (I'm saying this outloud in my best Boromir voice), but in it also are splotches and stains of beauty.
