Monday, June 25, 2007

Toddler Philosophy... is this where dreams originate?

At eight-thirty this morning Samuel took his first swig from the egg creme he begged me to make. He claimed he needed something "chocolately" for washing down his oatmeal. He swallowed and turned halfway around in his chair to proclaim, "that's as smooth as a clean chair"; while stroking the back rail of his kitchen highboy-style seat.

My wife and I regularly discuss opportunities - both missed and acquired. She loves her career as a Speech Language Pathologist working in the hospitals and skilled nursing facilities (not so much her previous stints in the schools or private contracting). Though she still wonders if she should have gone on to medical school; as she secretly always desired. Growing-up, she never felt that her family would take her dream seriously - so she kept it to herself... for a decade and a half.

I took my own odd little paths in the past. A round-about-way of getting from there to here. In my family, ideal career opportunities for a "smart guy" (someone college-bound) led to either engineering or business degrees; and anyone that knows me can easily recognize I don't have an interest for either. I originally settled on working towards degrees that would lead to teaching at university level (English, Art, Philosophy - I didn't care which, but it was something I could justify to my parents), I loved self-expression (particularly painting) and attained a degree in studio art. Graduated and worked for a while as a gallery director with the intention of eventually returning to school for an MFA. I worked for a while as a K-12 art instructor, basically worked my way around the west to find my voice as a painter... the desire to be a professor now only an occasional memory. I'm not sure if I really have any regrets, any other path would have interferred with my progress as an artist; well... maybe I wish my wife was a doctor... my salary isn't what one could honestly classify as "exact" or "regular".

"that's as smooth as a clean chair"

My four-year-old son... the philosopher. He makes strangely obscure comments like that on a daily basis. Though I seem to never know exactly where they originate, I can't help but stand in wonder as the statements flow from his mouth and mind. Where will this train of thought take him; what dreams lay under the blanket with a middle-child-toddler actively seeking abstract thoughts? - DN

No comments: