It started last Friday.
You'd figure that at my age I should have at least a hint as to where I should be heading to in my life. Most of my high school batch mates seem to have it made. They have achieved their ambitions and have actually become what they wrote in our yearbook. Some wrote that they wanted to become lawyers and engineers, while others opted to forward more general statements like "To become successful," or "To excel in my chosen field."
Oddly enough, I was curious to know what it was that I have written as my aspiration in life. I was kind of excited to find out and actually see two things: 1) if I was smart enough, at that time, to figure out what I really wanted to pursue and be able to articulate it in written form; and 2) if I did write something, it should match my current job description or should at least be somewhere along the lines of the articulated ambition. When I looked at my page in the yearbook, I was taken aback, the darned "My ambition is to become a.." statement was INCOMPLETE! It was unfinished. I tried to remember what I wrote before but, as recalling past incidents is not one of my stronger points, I was unable to recall anything. I had no past to look back to. It certainly foreboded a hazy future for me. An uncertain and directionless future. I was aghast.
What DID I want to become? I was thinking of the things that had such life-changing effects on me during that time. What held my fascination back then? So much so that it would become the object of my quest for a so-called productive and fulfilled adult life. This thought has been my preoccupation for a time now. 'Tis became a sort of reflection on what I had dreamt of becoming in the past. Did I want to become a psychotherapist? Or a theater actor perhaps? Or did I even consider that I wanted to become a writer? Or maybe even a professional bum? All these questions might help me retrace my thoughts as an awkward, pimple-ridden 17 year-old teener. Emphasis on the MIGHT.
Why do I obsess on finding out the answer to this question? Aside from the fact that I AM an OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE-FREAK-OF-NATURE, I do realize the value of knowing my past for me to progress and achieve my future. I guess, for me, knowing my ambition in life would help me assess how far off-track or near the finish line I am in achieving my dream in life.
Now I am 27. Ten years later, one would expect that this issue would been already resolved. But it would seem that I am nowhere near discovering what I really wanted to become to in life. But I think that this is where the beauty of living life lies, having something to look forward to. Something you yearn to discover and find out eventually. Something that makes each waking morning an adventure. Something that makes you strive to survive every trial and difficulty that comes your way. It is that something that helps to keep life interesting. It is that something that helps you to move forward despite not knowing where you should go.
I am still looking around for answers. I still AM clueless, but certainly not hopeless.
You'd figure that at my age I should have at least a hint as to where I should be heading to in my life. Most of my high school batch mates seem to have it made. They have achieved their ambitions and have actually become what they wrote in our yearbook. Some wrote that they wanted to become lawyers and engineers, while others opted to forward more general statements like "To become successful," or "To excel in my chosen field."
Oddly enough, I was curious to know what it was that I have written as my aspiration in life. I was kind of excited to find out and actually see two things: 1) if I was smart enough, at that time, to figure out what I really wanted to pursue and be able to articulate it in written form; and 2) if I did write something, it should match my current job description or should at least be somewhere along the lines of the articulated ambition. When I looked at my page in the yearbook, I was taken aback, the darned "My ambition is to become a.." statement was INCOMPLETE! It was unfinished. I tried to remember what I wrote before but, as recalling past incidents is not one of my stronger points, I was unable to recall anything. I had no past to look back to. It certainly foreboded a hazy future for me. An uncertain and directionless future. I was aghast.
What DID I want to become? I was thinking of the things that had such life-changing effects on me during that time. What held my fascination back then? So much so that it would become the object of my quest for a so-called productive and fulfilled adult life. This thought has been my preoccupation for a time now. 'Tis became a sort of reflection on what I had dreamt of becoming in the past. Did I want to become a psychotherapist? Or a theater actor perhaps? Or did I even consider that I wanted to become a writer? Or maybe even a professional bum? All these questions might help me retrace my thoughts as an awkward, pimple-ridden 17 year-old teener. Emphasis on the MIGHT.
Why do I obsess on finding out the answer to this question? Aside from the fact that I AM an OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE-FREAK-OF-NATURE, I do realize the value of knowing my past for me to progress and achieve my future. I guess, for me, knowing my ambition in life would help me assess how far off-track or near the finish line I am in achieving my dream in life.
Now I am 27. Ten years later, one would expect that this issue would been already resolved. But it would seem that I am nowhere near discovering what I really wanted to become to in life. But I think that this is where the beauty of living life lies, having something to look forward to. Something you yearn to discover and find out eventually. Something that makes each waking morning an adventure. Something that makes you strive to survive every trial and difficulty that comes your way. It is that something that helps to keep life interesting. It is that something that helps you to move forward despite not knowing where you should go.
I am still looking around for answers. I still AM clueless, but certainly not hopeless.
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