An Answer to the Most Common Question in the World
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s a popular question, and for good reason. Choosing our “path” — if you’ll allow me to call it that — has enormous influence on our lives. Too often, however, we let those around us impact our answer.
One night, I was riding home from a dinner party with my dad when the topic came up. As my Dad often does during long car rides he told me a life lesson which I’ve forgotten by now. After the lesson I told him that I wanted to be a writer or a sports journalist when I grow up. “I want to tell stories and be on ESPN,” I told him. He said, “That’s nice, but don’t you think that’s a competitive field? You should probably leave your options open.” I turned my head and pouted, upset that he would tell me how I should live my life.
A couple years later, I told my best friend as we rode to youth group, that I wanted to be a sports journalist. He looked over and said, “You realize you can’t make any money as a journalist.” Swallowing my anger, I accepted his opinion. And rather than turn my head to pout, I turned up the radio then looked at the road ahead.
I’d be ignorant to think this situation is one I alone experienced growing up. It’s a part of our culture to have an opinion. Whether its arguing about who the next President of the United States will be, or determining the best flavor of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, we all love to butt in and offer our “humble opinion.”
But the fallacy that so many find themselves accepting is that our lives should be lived a certain way. We often look to religion, literature, science and philosophy in search of a way to live our life. But the reality is that there isn’t one way to live a life, nor is there a correct way.
If you want to be a writer, then go and do that. No one ever wrote a rule in the book that said writers can’t also make money. And the same can be said for other professions too. Clay pot makers, dubstep-meets-country DJs: they all have a place in this world. The secret that everyone keeps from you most of your life is that any master of a trade can ask a hefty sum for her talents.
Cash follows passion — full stop.
This is something that I didn’t understand until recently. In fact, at some point between that car ride with my friend and now I gave in to the flurry of opinions. I stopped pursuing my love for sports journalism. But a couple years ago I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let others make a decision that ultimately only affected me.
When it came time for my second act of defiance I stuck to my guns. About a year ago I decided to drop out of school and follow a new passion. I had a dream of what my life could be and this time I decided to pursue it relentlessly. I wanted to build a company without any formal education on how to do it. My Dad didn’t think it was a good idea and I’m pretty sure that same friend didn’t think it was a good idea either. But rather than look to the outside world hoping for approval, I looked inward and ask myself a simple question: will this make me happy? The answer to that question was yes and so I took a leap of faith based on a gut feeling. I stop attending classes and started a education-technology company.
In retrospect, walking my own path wasn’t a leap of faith at all. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I’m living a life free of regret. And while I still don’t really know what I want to be when I’m older, I can say that if I ever find the answer to that question it will be my own and no one else's.
A couple weeks ago when I was in Colorado I got lunch with my friend. We talked about how much the neighborhood had changed for a bit. We exchanged stories from our first year of school. Then he started berating me with questions about my new life as an entrepreneur. For the first time in my life he seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing — almost awe-struck. After a couple hours of catching up, I dropped him off at his house and said goodbye. But before closing the car door he paused and looked at me. “I just want to say I’m really proud of you,” he said. As I drove away, I turned up the music, looked at the road ahead and smiled. This is what I should be doing with my life, I thought to myself.
P.S. — Dad, I forgive you for telling me what I should do with my life that night in the car. As you told me recently, parents have an obligation to want the safest possible thing for their kids (“We’ll always need bridges, son. Why not become a civil engineer?”). But no one has ever inspired me more or believed in me as much as you have. You are my hero, my best friend and the greatest man I know.
