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.
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| What do you call a basement that's not really a basement? |
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| YA BOOKS! |
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| 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,
CSS :)
2 comments:
I left home at 15 because 1. I needed to work and earn so that I could help my parents and 2. because I SO wanted out of the house. At that time their influence ended. I was free and could do as I pleased. Was it the best for me? No. I wish I had the foresight then to understand that I needed an education. So much of my life was spent feeling less than. I was relegated to the low-paid working-class. If I could go back I'd change everything. Well, up until I met my hubby
:-)
Fifteen! I would've been so scared. I'm happy you found happiness when you met your husband, however. :) Thank you for sharing your story.
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