What would your career be today if your natural interests and talents were nurtured as a child? Before society made its impressions on you, or a well-meaning loved one urged you to focus on something more realistic? Those things you delighted in without refrain. The things you chose to spend your free time on when you were full of possibility, imagination, and free time. When I look at how we are raising our children to believe that anything they dream is a possibility, it leads me on journeys into my own inner knowing in an attempt to figure out what career path I should take. I have this incessant hunger for more out of life, for the freedom of a life by my own design. I dream of a life where my family is liberated from the constraints of time and punching a clock. Where work is doing something I am passionate about, and something that makes a difference. Where each day is slow and peaceful, productive and full of soul. Where we have everything we need and want, but also have more TIME together. I often felt puzzled at where to begin, even frozen in fear and complacency, but always with a knowing that it’s somehow possible. There are people living the life of their dreams every day, people who are no more of a human than I am. It led me to question whether if we were living in line with our truest, most authentic selves, would we even be “working” a day in our lives? At a young age, I wanted to be a writer, a nurturer. I wanted to create, and I wanted to bring people together to find harmony and share ideals. I still remember the day in 3rd grade when my guardian found my poems, short stories, journals, and club/ business ideas. I was reprimanded, told they were stupid, met with violence, and warned not to write anymore. I had already learned long before that to stifle my opinions, that silence was safety. But that day I watched as my last creative outlet, my last source of expressing my truth, was ripped up and thrown away. It felt as though the remainder of who I was had been ripped right out of me. From that point on, the writing ceased, save for a few times when I would feel courageous for a while and had dear friends who would carry my journals and poems for me, trying to encourage my light by bringing them to school each day for me. Eventually this stopped as well, because I knew it was stupid and dangerous to put my thoughts on paper where they could be found. I was led to believe that who I was wasn’t okay, that my opinions held no value. It was imprinted in me that my voice did not matter, that that there was no space in the world for my words or ideas. I cut off lines of communication and creativity, doubted my intuition, and began to place everyone else’s opinions over my own inner beliefs. It took all these years for me to come to a place where I am learning the art of self expression that I lost so long ago, and learning to acknowledge and honor my own inner truth. It was 15 + years after that day in 3rd grade, before I picked up a pen and paper and let my words flow freely. Without fear of judgement, without restraint. Without consideration for who may be offended, with the hope that my story has the power to accomplish all of those desires that as a child I believed in so fearlessly. And since I started writing again, I haven’t been able to stop. I find these beautiful words and thoughts flowing out of me, that I hadn’t even realized lay dormant for so long. It feels easy and natural. It feels like coming home. More to come later on my experience with losing my freedom of expression, and my experience with learning to liberate my inner warrior by having the courage to speak up and honor my truth… 🍃
But it truly makes me realize, that if we go back to what we enjoyed as children, the answer to our biggest questions may be found. What am I meant to do, what is my purpose? Well, what would you have said back then? And if we raise our children without judgement over the things they are drawn to naturally, no matter the who/ what/ when/ where/ why… just with pure love and encouragement, with freedom of expression, they may be lucky enough to grow up knowing exactly who they are and what they hope to accomplish.