What Did You Want to Do Before the World “Should” on You?

This is another way of asking yourself to try to remember your childhood instincts and aspirations before adult conditioning took over. You may have considered that lemonade stand “play” back then, but in many ways, you were experimenting in a child’s version of making a living. For me, it took my younger daughter’s impression of who I was, sharpened by her instincts of what I enjoyed, to get me back on track in my mid-forties.

When my daughter Nicolette (Nikki) was five (she’s now seventeen), she drew a picture of who she thought her Daddy was and what he loves to do—two ideas linked inextricably as one for her. Her drawing, along with her description of me appears on the next page.

She was right. Earlier that year, I’d gone up into my attic and found the proverbial “box in the attic” of memories buried, suppressed, and repressed long ago. In a box were short stories I had completely forgotten about! I now remembered what served as my “lemonade stand.”

When I was eight years old, I’d write these stories, type them up, and get them mimeographed at my grandfather’s office. I’d then sell them door-to-door: 3 cents for a one-page story, 5 cents for a two-page story. The stories had titles like “I Went Mad,” “I Was the Fiery Demon,” and “Friday the 13th.” (What do you want? I was just a kid and obviously no Hemingway.) As you might expect, no one in the neighborhood turned me down. And it certainly beat having a paper route. But what was the message I got at home? “You can’t be a writer. Writers don’t make much money.” So the dream went into the box.

The next year, I had a counseling business: I would advise my friends on how to get along better with their siblings. (Of course, I myself had no siblings at the time.) I charged a nickel for that service. Like Lucy in the Peanuts comic strip, I did well with my little advice stand business. And what was the message I got this time? “That’s great, Mark. You want to be a psychiatrist!”

When I explained that I had no intention of becoming a doctor, well, my parents’ expressions were… priceless? I then followed the “I want to be a” with two words that can kill any parents: “social worker.” Better to be a sculptor—at least the folks get to see something tangible!

Today, I’m living my childhood dreams. I write and advise. I guess you never truly leave childhood; rather you take a little bit of it with you. For me, it took a daughter’s drawing and forty years to get back there! Want to do it sooner? Listen to your children and friends. Think back. What did you want to do in your early days? What lights you up, makes you jump out of bed in the morning, excited by a new day?

It’s the complex, wondrous journey of the heart whose only risk is not being true to itself. That’s a risk overcome by following the first three lifelines.

Destiny Plan Questions

• What are you passionate about?
• Describe your perfect day. What does your description tell you?
• What did you love to do when you were around eleven or twelve?
• Do you do things that are at odds with what you believe in? If so, what are they, and why do you do them?