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.