Let the Young Be Fearless

Never have I really felt like the things I love were validated. That’s what happens when you feel so much inwardly but you actually are a very spontaneous person, opposed to popular belief. It’s all just stuck in there with all of this potential energy that’s ready to explode!

Or that’s what happens when you’ve grown up insecure and shy. Maybe that’s just it.

Because when you’re bad at one thing you overcompensate in what you’re good at to compete with your peers, right? You overcompensate so that you can make your parents proud. You overcompensate to make yourself feel validated.

Man, I was so awful at math and focusing on doing actual schoolwork that I practiced my music to a ridiculously hard extent with far too much vigor and zeal.

I wrote, in secret, nearly every night silently hoping that my random thoughts would make some child giggle one day like the stories I read made me giggle when I was little.

I drew random flowers with charcoal because I just loved the way that the dark medium accented the beauty of the fragile pedals so well.

What do you do when the thing you love is an abstract idea but it feels very real and tangible to you? You make it a dream, or a goal, to one day make it feel very real and tangible to someone else. But it’s so far away and so unprobable. How on earth do you tell a child that their work is important and valid, too, when, in the grand scheme of things in the society they live in, it’s really not?

I never thought it was fair for a parent, or adult in general, to break a child’s heart when they want to follow their dream. As a recent recollection of who I truly am inside reveals me to be an idealist, I now know that this would have destroyed me when I was little. If someone told me that I couldn’t become a cardiologist then I would have just fumed and wanted to be it even more. (Really, I would have cried in my room later because I would finally admit to myself that it’s probably true.) (And it was.) (That’s beside the point, though.)

Who gave you the right to destroy someone else’s dream? Then again, is it really fair to let someone chase their dreams when it really is a lost cause?

Well, let’s see here: *licks fingers to turn the page*

So many questions. I ask so many questions. I love asking questions. There is no part of me that can truly convey how much I love asking questions. As if my blog posts nearly filled with questions wouldn’t do it for you. I love asking them even more so when I know that they won’t be answered. In a backwards way, that is very similar to letting a child follow their dreams. They will find out the answer. Children, and as they grow into young idealistic adults, are not dumb or completely ignorant. They may have to learn the the hard way but the journey is the most important part at this young-adult age — my age. I know that sometimes for every answer I get, I probably have already asked four. I know that. That doesn’t make me any less curious.

So, on one hand, let the young love their abstract ideas. Let the young follow their dreams. Let the young be curious. On the other hand, do let them follow their love for things science and literature and maths and everything that there is to love. For if we don’t follow what our heart truly desires then what is the point of living? There is none.

Yes, we want our youngens to be successful and stable and strong. Though, is that worth the risk of them feeling small and insecure in their strengths and not truly being who they are? I don’t think so.

Most importantly, let the young be fearless.

No one should have to fear.

“We’re not in a perfect world, though,” You think.

“Oh, look at you, you smarty pants! No, we are definitely not!” I say as I sip my perfectly blended mocha frap and sit in the perfectly quaint Panera Bread while somewhere in our world out there, Sally Mae is stranded without gas on the side of the highway, Javier was just rushed to the emergency room, and while Ella is starving and laying on her cold floor — the vague and random, yet significant in their own context, list of names goes on.

I know that.

If you’re going to bring up that argument then I’m going to bring up the argument of, “Well, then, what the heckity are you doing to fix it, Mr/s. Smart-Pants?”

Now that I’ve grown, with much growing to do still, I know that my dream is to fearlessly make someone, anyone, feel an idea or an emotion from something that I have created. I want to fearlessly create. I want to fearlessly love.

I want to fearlessly be me.

That’s a big leap from waiting to write in the wee hours of the night in fear of my mother catching me awake. This is one thing that I learned from my days of practicing the viola relentlessly; practice your passion in a way that makes you feel like this is the one thing that will keep you alive for all of eternity.

So, this is my pledge; I will let myself be fearless and encourage others to be fearless in their journey, as well. Passion; it’s like a wildfire, you know. It kindles in one spot and, especially in a drought, it spreads faster than the snap of a finger.

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