Still better than a bowl of fruit
But fear not (!), I think this is a GOOD THING.
For we are not the same people throughout our lives.
At about 8, I identified a type of shoe that pleased me. I recall they had little holes all over them, punched in a pretty pattern. I stuck loyally to my hole-y shoe style through many size upgrades. How my mother must have cheered on the rare occasions when I would swap from red to blue.
At 14, I was a devoted member of the Star Wars Fan Club. My walls were plastered with posters. My favourite was one of Han Solo. But I was worried. Adulthood was fast approaching, and I knew grown-up taste ran to proper framed pictures. A world of sensible landscapes, faithfully depicted fruit bowls or obscure abstract art - not film star posters. How could I ever relinquish Harrison Ford?
In my early thirties, when struggling to define what “helping people” really meant to me (which demographic, helping in what way?), there was at least one thing of which I was totally sure. I did not mean children or “old people.”
Yet more recently, that has changed. Since having my daughter Elsa, I feel passionately about helping children think independently, and develop the confidence to stick to their guns in going for what’s important to them. I’m not yet inspired by issues that relate to older people, but I imagine that could change as my parents age, and as I grow older myself.
As we have new experiences, meet new people, acquire new interests and reach different life stages it’s only natural that what constitutes happiness for us in terms of work and life will likewise evolve.
The lesson I take from this is to dial down on the pressure. We don’t need to identify the perfect job or business, to be pursued relentlessly until the day we retire. We can just think about what would make us happy for where we’re at in our life right now. And be confident that with each adjustment, we bring with us a rich smorgasbord of experiences, skills, knowledge - not to mention increased maturity - that is eminently transferable to the next phase of our lives.
In the meantime, I wonder where that poster got to?
