No one told me I could be a writer!
Or an artist, a creativity expert; a specialist in playing or an observer of internals worlds! In fact, no one told me that I could be anything I wanted to be in my own life. I don’t think we still explicitly tell our children that they own their life – do we?
There were 3 well worn paths for my future made known to me by my parents. I could either be a doctor, engineer or a lawyer. The first was the preferred option with engineer being a tolerable alternative. You could be a lawyer if you really wanted to be one but lawyers are scoundrels so why bother unless you really feel inclined to! Note this was not my opinion! Rather it was an epidemic doctrine of a culture that I was born into (except maybe the last part about lawyers…I think that was perhaps just my parents)! A culture where this belief I call an affliction, was so widespread that my parents, with all their good intentions could never escape infection! And why would this not be so in countries and social climates where poverty prevails and power and money propagate their own kind of wisdom. Societies where class and caste divide friends and neighbours and one`s destiny cannot be easily escaped except perhaps by chance and divine intervention or education. The latter offered the tried and tested route. The former…how long could one wait for the divine to intervene right! Education offered the only doorway out of misery and impoverishment and the inferiority felt by legions of people affected by the ailments of caste, colour and colonization!
When I was a little girl one of my first spoken statements was a promise of some kind I made to my parents.
“When I grow up, I am going to be a doctor so that I can buy my appa (father) a car and my amma (mother) flour to make me roti.”
Was that cute or what! The sad part of this story though is that this innocent statement by an even more innocent little girl fit in with the well intentioned aspirations of my struggling parents. And so, it was decided. This story or life sentence as I later came to experience it, would be one that would be told and re-told to me, to friends and strangers who came into our inner circle. What I would give to be a fly on the wall to see my face and reaction at each recitation during my childhood! I wonder, was I happy perhaps for some time with my “choice” and direction being set so early on in life or did I display the slightest flinch and hide my internal confusion to my parents, to the world and to myself!
Years went by and my confusion grew roots and wings. I remember the unrest, the internal struggle accompanied by feelings of not being on firm ground and not knowing the way ahead. I thought I should like science and biology and math and all “those things” that would prepare me to get into medical school. The only problem was that I soon realized growing up that 1. I hated the sight of blood and 2. I almost passed out at the sight and smell of a frog we had to dissect in Biology class.
No one told me that my life was my own. No one even hinted that I should look at what gave me joy or that work and life should be “fun”! What a foreign idea!
How can people who only knew poverty and the elevation out of it through hard work and sacrifice lead their children into the unknown worlds of creativity and wonder? It is far safer to follow the living, breathing icons of success like doctors who never seem to go out of business! What I am saying here is that blame has no place in this conversation. The reality of one’s own life is the motor that propels our intentions and direction. My parents did the best they could. They wanted to ensure that their daughters could stand on their own two feet, be successful in a way that met their and the world’s definition. The reality of their own life did not allow them to envision travels off the beaten path. When it is a matter of food and shelter, of survival and security what would any of us choose standing in those feet…perhaps without shoes!
To be continued in part 2 
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Mary Oliver
An Ex-Corporate Junkie Comes Clean!
A seeker, a searcher, a sojourner on a path into the vastly undiscovered, unknown territory that makes up me, myself and I. Somewhat of an understated yet sometimes aggressive smartass who had to get lost to discover that she was searching. An ex-corporate junkie who for a long time was clueless and blinded by the "bling" of everyday distractions to notice all the hooks, the hookers or the hooked, never mind the artificial highs and depressing lows. Am I clean now? Read more About Me and keep coming back ...I’ll come clean!
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