It’s funny how I’m writing in my local library’s basement about an illumination that happened in the basement of my college’s library. I find peace in these spaces below ground and feel more in tune with my consciousness. Dare I say that some sort of mystical essence oozes out of library basement walls that affect my inner thoughts and releases revelation after revelation? Of course it’s nothing that dramatic, but it’s fun to think so.
|What do you call a basement that's not really a basement?|
|Can you spot my work station?|
I left off yesterday talking about how I ignored or rather suppressed another path to success and happiness because I feared what my parents would think about it. They wanted a doctor and nothing else could offer prestige and honor to the family name. I on the other hand desired to be a scholar: to teach, learn, conduct research, and repeat. And of course be a writer. To stay in line with my parents liking for science, I bargained I could be a genetics professor because I genuinely enjoyed genetics and molecular biology. However, I was more concerned and passionate about the intricacies behind society’s power structures than the building blocks of DNA. Sociology. I can hear the sighs already. You can’t possibly make any money studying that! The stats do say education and sociology are on the bottom of the list in terms of earning power. Tell that to my heart and mind because they both can’t get enough of it.
So, June rolled in and I decided to write my parents a letter about the change in my life’s course. Letters are wonderful mediums for getting thoughts across without interruption and I thank them for that. In it I detailed the immense unhappiness I felt following a plan that struck me powerless, dead, and unmotivated. The letter finally followed a sit-down and it was difficult.
My parents saw my dreams stretch as far as the end of their noses. I held no blame against them though. Their dreams were not mine and my dreams were not theirs. Only point of reconcile I hoped was the desire for each other’s health and happiness. The problem emerged when pursuing my dreams apparently brought unhappiness to my parents while pursuing their dreams brought me unhappiness. I figured I needed to convince my parents to embrace a broad picture of health, success and happiness rather than the narrow, almost dogmatic view they were accustomed to. It was a view that stifled me and weakened my creativity and stunted my growth as a human being. I later realized it did the same to them. It brought only suffering because no one wanted to live up to it and that created failure.
This understanding eluded me back then, but I have it now and I feel it’s on its way to make a difference in our lives.
How about you? Ever have a particularly difficult conversation with loved ones about something that ended in a dilemma? Please share if you can.
The story ends tomorrow.
Thanks for reading,