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Saturday, November 17, 2007

Optimistic


What was your dream in your yester years? When you were younger, do you remember an instance how you would tell with fervor, your dreams to your parents? Do you recall a moment in a classroom when one of your teachers wanted to know how you envisioned a career for yourself? When you stood up with paramount dignity telling everyone what you wanted to be was the noblest in the world? With how you'd take pride comparatively prattling with your playmates of your precarious ambitions?

I remember myself with those kindled dreams in my innocence. Words rolling off my tounge were like the reflection and assurance of a bright future awaiting me, in retrospect. How sweet it was to always tell people, "I wanted to be a Civil Engineer." I held on to that dream passioned by how my dad would always brag about his engineer friend, that an engineer makes a lot of money and plans, and builds the most durable and elegant buildings and houses, bridges and roads. Well, that was how I was told.

Later though as I soon left the images of my boyhood, and my innocence opened to the more complex realities in life, I realized that dreaming too much in my younger years was a picture of bitterness. As I was going through different struggles in life, the picture of the world began to unfold together with the departure of my ignorance. It proved that it was more painful battling a well of obscurity impending to ruin your most cherished ambitions.

In my teen years, that word-of-mouth dream of my younger years slowly vanished. I was probably doing my best priviliged with the education my parents afforded me in a public school but the path I took was rudderless until one of my mentors in highschool discovered something in me-that I could write.

I was zealous and a vim of do-good nature in me was ablaze anew. I had a new direction to take. "I wanted to be a journalist." I told my classmates and teacher on my first day as a freshman in a prestigious university in my town.

How I ended up being a teacher? It's for another post.

4 comments:

black_mamba said...

Hey Lord Manila Stone AKA Darna. I'll give you another reason to be optimistic haha :)

I have a little something for you on my new post. Don't forget to 'claim' it ;)

shiera said...

I agree with your teachers... you really have a gift at writing. Every time I read your posts I could almost feel that I'm in your shoes. Keep up the good job!

Dreams... mmm when I was still a kid, I'd say I wanted to be a nurse because that's what my girl playmates said! Then came senior high school. I panicked because I still didn't have a career in mind. ^-^

vin said...

ako dream ko maging online writer. nag-susurf ka na, kumikita ka pa. haiiizz

*Sparky* said...

Oh, the dreams... I remember them well.

It actually reminds me of a funny event from my son's past. My son is a beautiful entity of mixed race. I'm white, his father is black. At the time of this event, however, I was married to an Italian man. One day, someone asked my son what he wanted to be when he grew up, and his answer was, "An Italian." *LOL* - Good luck with that one, kid! My son is much older now and has new dreams of being a psychologist and a business man with his hands in many cookie jars. I believe he can do it.

My daughter dreams of growing up and moving to England where she plans to rescue horses up for slaughter and train them to assist in working with special needs children in therapeutic riding. I believe she can do it.

I certainly never dreamed of growing up to be a waitress. From the age of four I knew I wanted to write. Throughout my twenties, I sought out that career with vigilance and vigor, but was exhausted with it by my thirties. Now, I accept that waitressing is what pays the bill, and blogging is what scratches the itch of the muse.

The good thing is, we're never too old to fulfill our dreams, and our dreams never stop forming.

I'm sure the Universe had a very good reason for placing you in a teaching position, and I have much respect for that occupation.

*Sparky*